


I've been waiting for the sun to rise where you are.

by dearmelancholy



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Music Store, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Het Relationship for a while, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmelancholy/pseuds/dearmelancholy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ann works at the small shop on the corner, filled with old books and old records. Leslie, a hard working passionate editor for a popular Indiana magazine, comes in one day, and nearly everyday after that to buy ridiculous music from the 90's. Ann is utterly intrigued by the woman. Too bad she keeps buying stuff for this boyfriend she has.</p><p>[ parks and rec au ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this sort of happened because of a dream that literally jolted me awake because wow, what an AMAZING idea. A special place in my heart will always be reserved for these two. It'll be slow burn though, because I love exploring dynamics. And torturing myself. 
> 
> Just a little run down. It was hard for me to decide whether or not Leslie sticks in government, I believe I found my way with her. (I'm keeping Ben in running campaigns because I think he's a little genius who's perfect for it.) Dynamic wise, Andy and Ann never dated, but they've been friends for a long time and work together, (idk why, I like the idea of them being good friends.) Andy is with April. Leslie and April work together and live together. (I love their dynamic, plus I just couldn't stop thinking about it so wouldn't it be hilarious to see them be roommates?) 
> 
> Idk what else to say. Everyone and everything will unfold as I go on, so you're not thrown in expecting to know what I'm thinking about them, their relationships and everything they do. 
> 
> This is a ridiculous mess, have fun folks.

//\\\ 

 

That damn bell on the door has been broken for days now. She’s been meaning to get it fixed, but with the Valentine’s Day rush over the weekend she hasn’t really gotten around to it. You'd think people would buy iPods or gift cards to get online books, but I guess some people still have a touch for the old, the romantic. Or they're desperate to impress. But that's beside the point, the broken bell, is why she doesn’t hear her come in. She just turns around from the back shelf and suddenly she's there.

 

With a startled jump and undignified squeak, she lets go of the books in her hands.

 

“Oh, shoot,” the woman exclaims as the books fall to the floor between them, pages splaying open. “God, sorry—”

 

“Oh!—no—it’s—”

 

“Let me help you...”

 

Ann feels herself blushing, embarrassed. The woman is crouched down in front of her, gathering the books up as best as she can. When she turns around again, the woman's standing, most of the books contained somewhat haphazardly in her arms.

 

“I... don’t know what to do now,” she admits after a moment.

 

Ann feels a laugh forming in her throat as she turns and walks back behind the counter. Ann stares at her for a moment. She's never been here before, she would remember that face on a customer, she thinks. Cute button nose, slightly pale skin, lovely cheekbones with a reddish hint from the cold air, nice lips... And a shock of blonde hair falls over kind eyes. She’s beautiful. And she’s staring back at her.

 

Ann coughs, cheeks flushing further with embarrassment. “You can just—here, maybe put them…” She gestures to the countertop, and she darts towards it.

 

“Sorry about that,” she laughs a bit awkwardly as the woman carefully deposits the armful of books onto the counter. “I didn’t hear you come in, the bell’s—”

 

“Broken. I noticed.” She turns back to face her with a grin, hand coming up and brushing the hair from her face.

 

She’s got a nice smile. _Shit_. Ann shakes herself from her thoughts, extending a hand. “I’m... I'm Ann."

 

“Leslie.” She shakes it, still grinning.

 

Ann pulls her hand back almost in a flinch. _Nobody shakes hands anymore, come on_. “Are you, uh—looking for anything in particular, or…?”

 

“Yeah, I’m…”

 

“…did you just want someone to drop old books on you?”

 

She, Leslie, laughs, and it goes right through her, from her toes to the tips of her fingers. “Actually I was going to ask if you had any copies of R.E.M.'s Out of Time.”

 

“...really?”

 

“...yes?”

 

“I mean, yeah. Let me just look in the system, see if it's here.”

 

Ann smiles, and Leslie's smiling back, so that’s good, right? Leslie shoves her hands deep into the pockets of the coat she's wearing, and Ann clears her throat, turning her attention to the computer screen in the corner of the countertop.

 

“Do you do, like... gift wrapping and stuff?”

 

Ann's fingers freeze over the keyboard. _Shit. Oh shit. Don't be buying something for a special someone, please be for a family member with an odd taste in music_. Ann blinks, scolding herself. _You just met this person, calm down?_ So, Ann scrolls through the inventory. Leslie waits on the other side of the counter, absently fingering the spine of one of the books on the counter.

 

“These aren't gonna be damaged or anything, right?” Leslie asks after a minute when Ann doesn't answer.

 

“What? Oh, yeah, they’ll be fine.”

 

“I’d hate to be responsible for ending the life of a book that's made it this far.”

 

_Do not giggle._

 

Ann giggles. Loudly.

 

Now Leslie's leaning over the counter, resting on her elbows. Is she... flirting? She's looking right at her. Ann can feel her watching her.

 

“Well,” she says brightly, looking up from the computer, “you're in luck.”

 

She's still smiling. “Great.”

 

“And you said you wanted it gift wrapped?”

 

“Yeah, that'd be perfect.”

 

“All right then.”

 

She doesn’t move.

 

Ann clears her throat. "So, are you paying by card, or cash?”

 

“Right!” She springs upright, digging her hand into one of her coat pockets, pulling out what looks like a billfold her grandmother might own. _Jesus_. “Here.”

 

Ann flashes her a little smirk as she takes her card. She settles back on the counter again while Ann processes her order.

 

“This for any special occasion?” she asks lightly, running the card through the scanner.

 

“Yeah, uh...”

 

She stands up suddenly, face scrunching up. “My boyfriend, he's been away for a while, thought I'd get him something. Gifts, are sort of my thing.”

 

“R.E.M., though?”

 

"He enjoys 90's music.” She says matter of factly.

 

Ann snorts at that, the computer screen flashing at her. She ignores it.

 

She looks... uncomfortable suddenly. “Early 90's, to be specific. He's always reminding me of that.”

 

“I'm partial to the late 90's, the music is better for parties and dancing.” Ann slides the card scanner towards her.

 

“That's what I said!”

 

Ann leans forward over the counter, mirroring Leslie as she types in her PIN. Ann watches her for a moment. “So, why was he away? Did you mess up your girlfriend duties?”

 

She cracks a smile without looking up. “No.”

 

“Did he mess up his boyfriend duties?” _What the hell are you doing, Perkins?_

 

“No.” She straightens up and slides the scanner back across the counter in front of Ann's elbows. “He helps run campaigns, he's been in D.C. for several months working on one. Tonight will be the first time we've seen each other in a while. We missed Valentine's Day, obviously, hence the late gift.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

There’s really no point in hiding her disappointment, she reasons. Ann types up the rest of her order and confirming payment. She’ll be damned, though, if she lets her see that her ridiculous flirting, ( _was it even flirting?_ ) had any effect on her. So she gives her the cheeriest smile she can muster as she rips her receipt off the printer (perhaps a bit more viciously than she means to).

 

"I'll be back in a minute."

 

“Okay.” Ann watches for a moment as she retreats, Leslie's eyes following after her. Ann walks towards the back, reaching the 90's and R's, flipping through the albums until she finds the right one. She ducks around the corner to the back room.

 

"Andy?"

 

"Over here." She walks towards the called out voice, finding her friend and co-worker sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through albums.

 

"Can you get this wrapped for me?" She asks, handing the album over to him. He takes it, eyeing it funny for a moment, letting out an almost identical snort to Ann's from before as he looks up. "Interesting choice."

 

Ann lets out a low chuckle, "Leslie's boyfriend likes 90's music," she mutters, before realizing she said it so casually, as if she's been friends with this woman for ages.

 

Andy looks up at her, confusion on his face. "Who's Leslie?"

 

Ann clears her throat, shaking her head. "Nothing, no one. Just a customer. Can you be quick with that? I sort of left her out there."

 

Andy jumps up, heading towards the work table. "You got it, boss."

 

Ann rolls her eyes, leaving the room and walking back to the front of the store. Leslie's still standing at the counter, this time with one of the books cracked open, eyes darting from word to word. Ann steps back behind the counter, her voice is a bit high and forced to her ear as she speaks.

 

“It'll be ready in a couple minutes.”

 

Leslie's head shoots up, Ann thinks it's almost comical how quickly, and she's slightly surprised she didn't give herself whiplash.

 

"Oh! Great."

 

Ann clears her throat. “Anything else I can help you with?”

 

“I… believe I'm all set, thanks.” she replies lamely.

 

“Yep, no problem.”

 

Andy chooses the right moment to appear then, right before it got awkward and she has no idea what else to say to this woman. He stops at Ann's side, handing over the now wrapped album. Ann takes it wordlessly, handing it over to Leslie, doing everything in her power to avoid having their fingers come into any contact. She's being ridiculous, she knows. She'll tell herself over and over again as she's lying in bed tonight how ridiculous she was being.

 

Leslie's eyes sweep over to Andy, eyes squinting slightly before shaking her head, backing away from the counter. She pauses at the door, though, looking back at Ann. "It's Ann, right?"

 

Walk out of the door. Go. “That’s me.”

 

Her gaze lasts a moment longer, and then she walks out the door.

 

Ann digs her fingernails into her palms for a few seconds and takes a few deep breaths. _Yeah, ridiculous_. Andy's voice shakes her from her early self scolding, though.

 

"I know her. Or, well, kind of."

 

Ann turns her head, a questioning brow raised as she looks at him. "What?"

 

"That's April's boss. Only seen her a of couple times. She's crazy busy all the time. Kind of surprised she even came in here."

 

Ann continues to stare at him, chewing on her bottom lip absentmindedly.

 

"Perkins! Hello, earth to Ann." Andy says, waving his hand in front of her face. She shakes her head, stepping back from him.

 

"You okay?" he asks softly, eyes suddenly filled with concern. Ann just gives him a soft smile, choosing to change the subject.

 

"Aren't you gonna be late to meet April for lunch?" He looks down at his watch, cursing under his breath as he darts around the counter, reaching for his coat hanging on the coat rack in the corner, which is only there because Ann has repeatedly, teasingly threatened him with being fired if he continued to leave his stuff tossed around all over. He pauses in front of the counter, eyeing her seriously.

 

"You sure you're okay?"

 

"I'm gonna text April and tell her you're never showing up."

 

He cracks a smile, knuckles drumming against the counter as he backs away.

 

"We'll talk during dinner tonight, and you can tell me all about what's clearly up with you." He says, hand grabbing the doorknob and opening the door.

 

"Go, dummy." She's smiling, shaking her head. He points at her, and she points back. It's their weird little quirk they've had for years to show they're being supportive, that they've "got each other."

 

"I'll see you at home tonight." He calls out, and then he's gone, door closing behind him with a soft thud.

 

Ann sighs, shoulders slumping. She instantly hates the silence and emptiness of the shop.

 

//\\\

_Damn_.

 

She nearly walks into a car. Damn. That was not supposed to happen. When you walk into an old looking shop, filled with old books and old music you expect an older lady with a reassuring smile or an annoyed teenager who's only there because it was an easy job to get, right? Right. You're not supposed to see... her. She suddenly thinks this woman should be in movies, lighting up the screen with her face plastered all over every magazine known to man, not behind a counter or sorting through old, dusty books.

 

She feels her phone buzz against the inside of her coat. She fishes it out, unlocking it with fingers numb from the brisk February air. It's a text from Ben.

 

_**Hi! Flight is on schedule, I'll be back around 7.** _

 

Another text comes in a moment later.

 

_**I'm going to grab a few things from my place before heading over, though.** _  
_**See you later!** _

 

Right. Okay. She shoves the phone back into her pocket, forgetting to reply.

 

For a moment she seriously considers turning around, walking back to the store and asking Should Be Movie Star if she wants to grab coffee. That's perfectly normal, right? Asking a random woman out for coffee, a friend coffee? An I'm intrigued by you, let's see where this goes... friend type of coffee? Should Be Movie Star would probably think she's a whack job.

 

Ann. Call her Ann.

 

Ann with the smoky eyes, long dark hair and bangs covering her forehead. An unmistakable... ethnic feature too? That's probably a grossly inappropriate way of putting it, she thinks. But, Ann's beautiful, absolutely beautiful. She's no stranger to beautiful women, strong women, remarkable women. You'll never meet anyone else who appreciates the female spirit like me, she recalls herself saying once. She might have been drunk. That statement stands, though. But Ann... oh, there's something else entirely... something, about this one...

 

She's walked past city hall, she realizes. She stops in the middle of the pavement, blinks at the offending non-city-hall buildings, and then heads back the other way towards the parking garage. Might as well go home, get work done there instead.

 

It’s probably, she thinks to herself on the drive back her place, it’s probably just some sort of weird thing because she misses Ben. It's been so long since he's been around, so the excitement of meeting someone new and interesting got her a little carried away. That's definitely it, she tells herself as she steps out of the car, walking up the pathway to the door and letting herself in.

 

She throws her keys in the bowl sitting on the entryway table and walks into the living room, collapsing onto the couch and eyeing the paperwork she had left scattered across the coffee table.

 

The front door opens a few minutes later and he hears April trudge in.

 

“You’re home!” Leslie exclaims, practically jumping off the couch. A distraction, any distraction, is welcome right now. She bounds into the kitchen. Overdoing it a bit? Nonsense. Besides, she is looking forward to hearing how April's morning went, considering she was pitching an idea they had amazingly worked well together on, after Leslie thought her last article on ideas to include more girls in local athletic activities at the Rec Center was worthy enough to take to people capable of making that happen, which still April had, less than thrilled, described it as just a lame effort to improve the lame Rec Center. But that's here nor there.

 

April looks tired, and annoyed. No different than usual, really. She dumps the couple binders she had tucked in her arms against the counter, letting out a disgruntled sigh as Leslie pulls her into an over enthusiastic hug. It's not like they saw each other this morning or anything.

 

“How was the meeting?”

 

“Awful.” April stands perfectly still until Leslie lets go, then rocks back slightly. “I don't know why you keep letting me go to these. The people in this town are ridiculous and nothing will ever get done. Also, my back hurts from the terrible chair.”

 

Leslie gives her a disapproving look, turning to the dog making his presence known. “Champion missed you.”

 

“I saw him this morning, Leslie. Quit being weird.”

 

Leslie only scoffs in response, heading back into the living room and plopping down on the couch.

 

“Aren't you about a million years late to meet your boyfriend you haven't let me meet yet?"

 

“I told him I'd be late because the meeting ran late,” April grumbles as she walks through the living room to her bedroom, coming back out a few minutes later changed into a hoodie and jeans. She stops by the couch, adding to what she had been saying, "and you have met him, at least twice."

 

Leslie shakes her head. "I don't remember."

 

April sighs. "Not surprising. Anyway, when's Ben getting in?"

 

“7. He's stopping at his place before coming here, though. So 7:30, 8ish he'll be over.”

 

April nods, stepping into the kitchen to grab her phone and keys off the counter, coming back into the living room and fixing Leslie with a serious look.

 

“I'll be back later. Do not wake me up, do not make me leave my room to yell at you.”

 

Leslie chuckles. “Okay.”

 

“I will have the lights off and the door locked. If you wake me up I will kill you both.”

 

“No waking up! I promise!”

 

“Good. See ya."

 

Leslie grins at her friend's retreating form. Sitting up and grabbing a few of the papers from the table as she attempts looking over project ideas, existing projects, and that one she's been working on for a while that April tries relentlessly to get her to tell her what it is. She will, eventually. But not now. Unable to focus though, she tosses the papers back onto the coffee table, settling back against the armrest of the couch, legs stretching out and eyes closing as she dozes off.

 

If she dreams about coffee and laughter and a smile not belonging to her boyfriend, she'll fiercely deny it later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took longer than i thought it would, but here we go.
> 
> we have leslie and andy meeting and some bonding, and we get to know about ann's past a little and how she became friends with andy. i told you this stuff would churn out as we go. i had fun working with these guys and exploring these dynamics in my own way.
> 
> i hope you enjoy, and any mistakes and terribleness are all on me.

//\\\

 

Andy is late.

 

Ann's spent the entire morning and now afternoon sorting through the new stock delivery and rearranging the front window displays. (If she puts the most obviously depressing romantic novels, and the happiest of albums next to them, she tries not to think about that too much.) She takes a few orders by phone and helps an extremely adorable older man pick out an anniversary gift for his wife, and then it’s 3:30, and Andy still isn’t there.

 

Finally at 3:45 she hears the back door slam open. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—”

 

“Forty-five minutes,” Ann growls as he rounds the corner into the front of the shop.

 

“I know!” He’s out of breath and flushed. “My alarm didn’t go off, I slept all morning, I ran here, did I miss the—”

 

“Yeah, you missed the delivery,” she hisses.

 

“Fuck. Sorry.” Andy’s sweating. He definitely did run here. “So you had to—”

 

“Unload and inventory everything myself, yes.”

 

“I hate myself,” Andy declares contritely.

 

“Never mind that, just—” She glances at the front window again, as she’s been doing obsessively since this morning. (Okay, so maybe she did think about the depressing/happy novel/music combination. So what?) “Just do register, I’ve got albums to sort in the back, it’s nearly four.”

 

“What, I just—”

 

“Just stay out front!” she calls over her shoulder, already heading through the door.

 

“Ann, I look like I could drop dead at any moment!”

 

“You look hot and sweaty, it’s sexy.”

 

“It’s—you—Ann!”

 

Her iPod is on the table next to the albums she had started sorting earlier. She stuffs the earbuds into her ears and scrolls to the loudest playlist she can find, and Andy's protests are drowned out.

 

//\\\

 

There’s no reason for her to turn up at fifteen minutes past four. There’s no such thing as fashionably late to a book shop, it’s not a party. Showing up on time isn’t going to make her look overeager. Or if it does, well, there’s nothing wrong with being eager to pick out and purchase another great gift for her sexy and brilliant boyfriend.

 

At fourteen minutes past four she stops messing around on her phone, texting April nonstop about why she refused to tell Leslie why she was so oddly giddy when she was rushing out of the house, ignoring Leslie and Ben's offer to join them for a late lunch. Every text goes unanswered as well. She sighs, putting her phone in her pocket and goes round the corner and steps in through the door with the broken bell. It’s actually incredibly disconcerting, now that she knows there’s supposed to be a bell chiming. Maybe she’ll buy her a new bell. Them. The shop. Obviously she’s not the only person...

 

Right. Of course. The sandy, unruly haired tall guy, with the nice facial hair behind the register is the same guy she saw here yesterday. Her employee. Or her boyfriend, whispers her brain, but she shuts that thought off and approaches the counter.

 

“Afternoon,” says the… guy. Book guy? Music guy?

 

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering what you had by The Pixies,” Leslie glances at the half open door behind the register. “I talked with Ann yesterday?”

 

Book or Music Guy seems surprised by the quick mention of Ann's name before his eyes light up and he points a finger at Leslie. “Yeah! You were here yesterday,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, "I actually know you, sort of.

 

“Oh?” Before Leslie can continue, Book or Music Guy goes on, “Yeah, my girlfriend works for you. Leslie, right?"

 

Leslie's lips purse, head tilting. “Yeah, that's me. Girlfriend?”

 

"Yeah, April!" he's nodding enthusiastically and Leslie grins softly in realization. April, yes. Of course. Oh my God! This is April's boyfriend! And he works here, of all places!

 

"She's never properly introduced us, or let us meet, but yeah..." he continues before trailing off, shrugging his shoulders.

 

Leslie lets out a small laugh, "Yeah, she's funny like that." Leslie extends a hand for him to shake, "Well, I'm Leslie. It's nice to meet you."

 

He takes it, eyes bright with excitement as he shakes her hand. "Andy."

 

Leslie takes her hand back after he lets go, standing there for a moment before clearing her throat, shaking him from his awkward standing around.

 

"Right, yeah, I got plenty of good stuff for you. What year? Or album, if you have specific ideas? Or, you know what, come with me we can just look through everything." He moves around the counter, heading towards the back end with the music, and Leslie can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. And knowing he's definitely Music Guy.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie ends up having a surprisingly good time just looking through olds albums with Music Guy. Andy. He's a little clumsy and kind of goofy, but he's sweet and he seems to know his stuff, and enjoys it. Leslie makes a mental note to bug April about meeting him on pure chance, and about how they met and ended up together.

 

“You know, you could just download these things off of iTunes or whatever,” Andy comments, “They have pretty much everything you could possibly want.”

 

“True,” Leslie laughs. “But, Ben, my boyfriend, he loves having a hard copy. And if it's a vinyl, well, no way he's passing that up.”

 

“Guy has good taste.” Andy says, walking with Leslie to her car parked in the back parking lot.

 

“I'll be sure to tell him that.”

 

Leslie trails off as she unlocks her car, Andy now on going on about the perfect way to listen to vinyl's. For a second she sees a flash of dark brown hair pop out of the back door, taking folded up boxes to the dumpster out back. And then she's back through the door before she knows it. She's not excited for a moment, and definitely hasn't been hoping to see Ann and talk to her. Nope.

 

“Anyway,” says Andy from behind her. "It was nice actually meeting you. I hope the boyfriend enjoys." He flashes a kind, goofy smile that Leslie returns with one of her own, opening the door and getting in as he walks back inside. She drops her head back against the headrest and groans, tossing the wrapped up album in the passenger seat.

 

//\\\

 

“You like her,” says Andy later that night as they’re both sprawled out on the floor, empty take out containers on the floor around them.

 

Ann raises her eyebrows at him as she takes a bite of Lo Mein. “I what now?”

 

“90's music lady.” When she doesn't respond right away, Andy rolls his eyes, "You know exactly who I'm talking about. Leslie."

 

She scoffs. “I don’t like her.”

 

“Yeah you do.” Andy puts his container of fried rice back down, turning to face her fully. “You totally like her. Which is why you made me stay up front, because you were afraid she'd come in again and you'd have to talk to her.”

 

“Maybe I thought you’d like her, you're both weird.” she replies stiffy, putting her food aside and standing, heading for the kitchen. She needs more wine.

 

“No, see.” Andy follows her into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she pours herself another glass. “It's painfully obvious, you never let me up front. I'm 'much too clumsy to deal with that' remember?”

 

“Is this the last bottle? Are we really out already?” Ann says, ignoring Andy.

 

“Ann. Come on, you know you can tell me. We're past the whole feeling uncomfortable thing, aren't we?”

 

“Yeah, but...” Ann starts, but stops herself as she places her glass down on the counter, letting out a sigh.

 

Andy just keeps his eyes on her, waiting for her to continue.

 

“I'm... not uncomfortable, telling you. I just, it's stupid. And it's way too soon to be like 'oh, hey, look at this nice face! I definitely like that nice face!'”

 

“Look at that nice face. I definitely like that nice face,” Andy repeats back to her, a small smile on his face as she shakes her head, chuckling to herself.

 

“Shut up,” she tells him, giving him a shove in the chest. “Besides, she's definitely never coming back. No one can buy that many albums, and you probably scared her away with your constant chatter.”

 

“My constant chatter is cute! It's why I have a girlfriend and I get laid and you don't!” Andy says, mock offense in his voice.

 

She laughs—a real laugh that she can’t help. “Alright, you lunatic.”

 

They slip into an easy silence, Ann sipping her wine at the counter as Andy cleans up, moving around the kitchen. They've been living together for about three years, friends for nearly seven. They'd met in college during a play the drama club was putting on. She was there out of encouragement by friends to get her head out of books and do something fun. Her idea of fun ended up being in a production that brought the books she loved to life, or any original work the club put on. He was there for the music core, a pretty damn good guitarist. She had thought he was hitting on her at first, and maybe he was, it's kind of laughable now. They hit it off rather easily, and he wrote her a song to go along with a monologue she had written for an audition. She didn't have a lot of close friends, just a study group for one of her classes and sort of her roommate. So, it was nice having him around. It wasn't until the end of sophomore year, when Ann realized she might sort of be in love with that same roommate. Which now, looking back on it, she'd like to think she has better taste now. She had never openly told a girl she liked or let alone loved her at this point. She'd known since high school she had an interest in girls though, but never really let herself feel safe and comfortable in that. So, she was a little boy crazy in high school instead. Whatever, doesn't matter. But, the roommate. Telling her happened at an end of year party, drunk, of course. The roommate laughed at her, telling her that is was a good joke. Of course, it wasn't. Roommate still laughed, telling her 'that's cute, but no way' and proceeded to drunkenly announce what she was just told to anyone she talked to. Ann's certain she'd never been stared at that much in her entire life. She panicked, and Andy, bless his soul, who was there with some friends, noticed and came to her rescue, keeping an arm around her as he helped her find her purse and telling numerous people to fuck off and that they can shove their comments up their ass. She ended up spilling her thoughts and feelings to him the rest of the night, sprawled out on her bed, him on her dorm room floor because why not, no way her roommate was coming back that night. It was easy, he was there, he was listening and he was kind. He ended up dropping out though, saying he wanted to pursue a real musical experience with his band, but they stayed in touch and when he returned home after the band thing didn't quite work out, she happily offered him the extra room in her place she'd just gotten in celebration of opening her own little business, and the whole musical side of said business was added just for him, and he's been here with her ever since. Ann knows she's lucky, even if he is a goon and she definitely has to tease him about that every chance she gets.

 

Andy stops at the counter opposite her, drumming his fingers against the counter as she finishes off her glass of wine, looking up at him.

 

"You never did tell me why you were late today," she says, and his face flushes as he scratches the back of his neck.

 

"Yeah, about that, I..." he pauses, a small smile on his face as he continues, "I ended up staying with April, and, well... I asked her to marry me."

 

Ann's mouth falls open as she looks back at him, stumbling around her words before she responds, "Oh my God, you idiot, why didn't you tell me sooner?!" She says, rather loudly and Andy shrugs sheepishly.

 

"I wanted to figure out what was up with you first," he says quietly, and no the tears in her eyes aren't about how lame he is or how much he cares, it's totally tears of excitement for him. She shakes her head, getting up from the bar stool and walking around the counter, standing behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back.

 

"I'm so happy for you, for both of you." she mumbles, a smile on her face.

 

He turns around, arms wrapping around her shoulders as he rests his chin on top of her head. "Thank you, nerd." They stay in their hug for a moment longer before she pulls away, wiping at her eyes as he bumps her shoulder with his fist lightly.

 

"You're gonna be my best man, right?" Ann lets out a loud laugh at that, shoving him and grabbing her glass from the counter, placing it in the sink.

 

"Maybe you can ask Leslie to be your date," he adds, brows waggling.

 

"She has a boyfriend."

 

"You never know what could happen, we have some time to plan."

 

Ann scoffs, "To plan your wedding or you attempting to get Leslie there, single, and into me?"

 

Andy just smiles. "Maybe both."

 

Ann rolls her eyes, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I'm going to bed, loser. I'll see you in the morning. Don't be late this time." Andy nods, watching after her as she leaves and letting out a sigh when he hears her bedroom door close.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so kind of quicker post of chapter 3, i got so into writing chapter 2 i wasn't ready to stop writing these losers. there's more ann and leslie interaction here, with andy as well. this one was a little harder for me but still enjoyable nonetheless.
> 
> leslie's starting to crack a little, but still, it's slow burn.  
> i hope you enjoy this chapter. any mistakes and awfulness are mine.

//\\\

 

The next morning brings with it a couple of college kids looking for collections of Shakespeare plays, a guy looking to sell a few old books and a woman needing a poetry book, to read at a funeral. No joke on that one. Fucking hell, Ann thinks as she hangs up the phone on that last one. She’s always enjoyed working with books and the escape of a good book, sad or happy, but never for an actual, sad event. It obviously happens, and it's kind of poetic in it's own way, but it's a bummer nonetheless to think about.

 

This morning she decides she’ll look through the poetry books first, though, just to get that over with. She’s just stood up from the ground, having sat herself down some time ago, skimming through books and stopping to actually read a few here and there, and that's when Leslie comes in.

 

“Hi,” she says. Then: “Please don’t drop those this time.”

 

She doesn’t drop them. Instead she puts a couple of the books back on the shelf, biting her lip. She realizes she’s trying very hard not to smile. She can’t help a little one, though, when she sees her standing there with a bright pink scarf wrapped around her neck. Her cheeks are faintly pink, too, from the cold, and her eyes are bright.

 

“Did he enjoy the albums?”

 

“Who the what?” Leslie asks.

 

Ann barely stops herself from rolling her eyes at the goofy expression on Leslie's face. “The albums, did the boyfriend enjoy them?”

 

“Oh, yeah!” She recovers quickly, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, he loved it. Thanks.”

 

“Great.” She says as enthusiastically as she can, despite the disappointment that sinking feeling going through her again. She reaches for a different book on the shelf. “So, he sent you back for more?”

 

“I wanted to come back.”

 

Her stomach does a little swoop at the sincerity in her voice. She’s about to ask her what she means when the phone rings.

 

“Oh, damn, hold on,” she sighs.

 

Leslie gives her a closed-mouth smile as she puts the pile of books in her arms in an empty space on the shelf, running behind the counter and taking the call. When she looks up halfway through jotting down the customer’s specifications, it's the funeral poetry lady again, she sees Leslie holding one of the older, more fraid books.

 

“Put that down!” she hisses, covering the receiver.

 

“It’s cool,” she says without looking at her.

 

“It’s really, really old,” she shoots back.

 

“I’m not going to kill it, I’m just looking.”

 

“You’re not just looking, you’re touching—oh, hello, yes, sorry, I’m here. Yeah, I'll see if it's here. Sure, no problem—”

 

Leslie turns the page of the book, brows waggling.

 

Fuck you, she mouths at her.

 

By the time she hangs up five minutes later, she realizes that she and Leslie might have just become friends.

 

//\\\

 

She buys a U2 album, and the book she had messed with. But she doesn’t leave.

 

It’s Andy's fault—he shows up at eleven with a box of donuts just as Ann is ringing up Leslie's purchase, and Leslie’s eyes light up, so of course Andy offers her one. Andy's wearing one of his old band t-shirts, so of course a conversation starts about his band. Unlike most checkout conversations, however, this one doesn’t seem to want to end.

 

Leslie's a writer, she learns. Well, officially she's an editor but she thinks writer sounds cooler. Also, she happens to be the editor for that super popular women's magazine, Inner Goddesses: A Woman's Everyday Guide for Taking on the World. It's mostly focused on the happenings in their state of Indiana, but it's gotten a more national readership with her knack for knowing exactly what women want, need and should have. Ann's pretty sure her mother has a subscription to the magazine, now that she thinks about it. The magazine is based in City Hall, and she makes a comment about how this city should really stop lumping all the important things into one building, she's going to work on changing that. She lives with her assistant—well technically she works somewhere entirely different, animal shelter to be exact, but had taken the opportunity to work on a piece with Leslie a little while back and has sort of just become her partner in crime on projects, plus they've been odd friends for a while now, and April needed a place to stay, she adds. April, of course. Ann really shouldn't be surprised because apparently everyone knows everyone and she's just kind of here, not knowing everyone, and can't believe she's never met Leslie already. They're currently having a debate about plays being better than musicals, Andy defending musicals while Leslie defends plays.

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Ann retorts without meaning to, as she hears Leslie's comment about musicals being okay, but way more interesting when there's a sad story or something political. Which to Ann's surprise, she's serious about and Leslie so doesn't seem the type to prefer that. But, she doesn't really know her, she supposes. “Musicals are the best.”

 

Leslie looks delighted.

 

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about this, do you write musicals on the side? Perhaps in that back room you're always escaping to?” Leslie teases as she rings up a young couple.

 

“Actually, she was in the drama club in college, used to say she'd like to write plays or musicals or novels that got turned into musicals or plays,” Andy cuts in. “I was going to help produce music.”

 

Ann looks like she might burst into flame with the color of her cheeks, and she shoots Andy a look that screams shut up, I will actually kill you. Leslie couldn't be smiling more at this information, though.

 

"Sounds like fun," Leslie says.

 

“We don’t have fun here,” Ann answers gravely. Andy laughs, bumping her in the shoulder with his own.

 

“Did you two ever…” Leslie asks suddenly, gesturing back and forth between the pair of them.

 

“Holy... no.” “God no.”

 

Her grin gets wider.

 

“She’s not my type,” Andy says. “She's got a nice face, but she's way too bookish for me.”

 

Leslie's eyes sweep over Ann's face for a moment, taking in her features. “She does have a nice face.” Ann's ready to curl up and die on the spot at her words and the look on Leslie's face.

 

“And she’s always elbowing me,” Andy continues as Ann elbows him.

 

“We met in college, and have been friends ever since,” she explains, ignoring Andy’s cries of protest. “We met because of drama club auditions, he was there for the musical side of it.”

 

"How'd you end up here, and not creating Broadway's next hit?" Leslie asks. Again, Andy cuts in and starts going on about their drama club experiences and what lead them here. Ann sighs, deciding to just let him tell the stories as she looks at the clock on the wall. The funeral poetry lady will be here in about an hour or so and Ann hasn't gone and grabbed the book the woman ended up deciding on. Stupid Andy, and stupid Leslie and their stupid bonding.

 

“I have to go look for this book for someone,” she finally cuts in after neither of them shows any sign of relenting in their nonstop chatter. “You two chat your faces off, I’ll be in the back."

 

Leslie stands up straight at Ann's words, turning her wrist over and muttering a curse under her breath as she looks at her watch. "Yeah, I should get going."

 

Ann ignores the pointed glare that Andy shoots her way. She doesn't know what she did to deserve that look. “It was really great to see you again, Leslie.” Andy says.

 

“Yeah, definitely, you too, both of you.” Leslie says lamely as she backs out of the shop. She pulls her absurd scarf up higher around her neck. “I’ll come back sometime. Have fun with the funeral thing. Or, I mean.” She edges out the door. “Uh. I'll see you.”

 

“Have a good day,” Ann calls after her. If she stands on her tiptoes while she does it, it’s just because she needs to stretch her feet after standing there for so long, it's not so she can get a better look at Leslie's retreating form, so Andy can keep his derisive snorts to himself.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie steps into the diner, shaking herself in an attempt to remove the chill in her bones before spotting April waving her over. She makes her way over, removing her coat and scarf, dumping them in the booth beside her as she sits down.

 

"I thought you'd be here before me," April says dryly, handing Leslie a menu from the end of the table. Leslie takes it, giving a shrug of her shoulders.

 

"I got distracted at the bookstore."

 

"Ugh, Leslie. Please tell me you're not going over there just to bug Andy."

 

"I'm not." Leslie says quickly and sharply, and April looks stunned for a moment at her tone before quirking an eyebrow.

 

"Forget it. He's lovely, by the way. I can't believe you didn't want me to meet him."

 

April rolls her eyes, deciding against reminding Leslie she had actually met Andy previously, she just doesn't remember. Fiddling with the wrapped up fork and knife on the table in front of her, she clears her throat. "I don't like sharing that kind of stuff, but I actually have some news, regarding Andy that I do need to share, because it's... kind of big."

 

Leslie drops the menu to look at April, interest peaked. "Are you going to tell me why he stayed over the other day? I thought you were just having dinner? And why did he not leave until late afternoon? And why you were so giddy? Ben and I were almost worried you did something bad."

 

Leslie's questions come at a million miles an hour, but April just ignores them. "He asked me to marry him."

 

An 'Oh my God!" immediately falls from Leslie's mouth, hands covering it as she lets out small excited squeaks April's pretty sure only a small animal should be making. Leslie drops her hands to the table, reaching over and taking hold of April's giving them both an excited squeeze.

 

"This is the best news ever! Oh my God!" Leslie mutters happily, then pausing, "How dare you not tell me sooner! I have so many hug time to make up for, for the both of you." April groans at that, mumbling 'don't' but there's a small smile on her face anyway as she eventually gives Leslie's hands a squeeze of her own in thanks. Pulling apart, they order their usuals when the waiter approaches and settle into conversation about work, before April gives Leslie a look.

 

"Why do you keep going back there? I doubt Ben needs more of his ridiculous music."

 

Leslie sighs, pushing her empty plate away and sitting back against the cushioned booth. "Andy's friend, she's... interesting."

 

April's nose scrunches up at that. "You mean Ann?" Leslie just gives a slight nod of her head.

 

"I used to think she was pretty boring, but she's important to Andy. We've hung out a lot more though, I sort of like her now."

 

Leslie smiles softly at that, but doesn't say anything else. She thinks about how has she never met Ann before, or even Andy. It's not like this city is all that big, and they all know the same people. April continues staring at her, eyes narrowing.

 

"Leslie?" April asks, and she gets a 'hmm?' in response.

 

"Are you heading back home, or going back to get some more work done?"

 

Leslie shakes herself from thoughts of cute nose freckles, nice hair and a love for musicals, turning her attention back to April, answering her question. "I'm heading home... Ben and I have dinner plans."

 

April just nods, letting the previous subject go but keeping it in the back of her mind for further thought. She stands, coming over to Leslie's side and leaning down, giving her a one armed hug and giving her thanks again for Leslie's excitement and support. Leslie just smiles and nods. She takes care of the check a moment later and makes her way to her car.

 

When she gets home, Ben is waiting for her. He's set up at the kitchen table, laptop in front of him, pausing from his work as he sees her come in.

 

"Hey." He says, standing and leaning down to kiss her cheek. As he's pulling back, he notices the object in Leslie's hand.

 

“Is that another album?” he asks, and Leslie hands it to him with a grin. He takes it, excitement on his face.

 

“You’re way too great,” he smiles as she steps away, removing her coat and draping it over the back of a chair at the table. She just smiles and hums in reply. She feels him come up behind her, placing a kiss to her neck.

 

"Don't you need to finish up so we can head out later?" She says, nodding towards the laptop and paperwork on the table. This time it's him who only hums in reply. She closes her eyes as his hands come to rest against her waist.

 

“How many more gifts should I be expecting?” He asks.

 

She sighs, “Oh, probably at least... another week’s worth.”

  
Long, lovely brown hair flashes in her mind. She can practically hear that voice as she thinks about spending a whole week going back there, and seeing her, and that smile, and those nice lips... She opens her eyes, turning around suddenly and pulling Ben into a kiss, and she makes herself stare at him in an attempt to not let her mind wander.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, another update! (or not, idk. i hope you guys like this, though.) this took way longer than it should have, life just got a bit distracting and not all that fun so i wasn't in the right place to write. but, here we go!
> 
> no big notes here, this chapter is a little shorter than the others, which sucks after a long break. but more ann and leslie in this chapter, pretty much all just them interacting. they're pretty lame in this, too. i had fun with it. hopefully i'll be working on chapter 5 soon. i hope you all enjoy.
> 
> (P.S. can anyone guess who ann's ex is? i'll give you a hint, it's that guy no one remembers who wanted to propose to her lmao.)

//\\\

 

The rest of the week plays out as it normally does. Ann's been running this shop long enough now, and the post-holiday slumps when orders slow down are always a relief. She has time to think now that she’s not rushing to complete far too many orders than she should ever have taken on. It's worse when people insist that their orders be delivered. Which, really? This town isn't that big and it isn't that hard to walk or drive down to a shop. Then again, with the people in this town, it really shouldn't be a surprise. Ann's still considering hiring another person though just to do deliveries during the holidays.

 

But this week there are no such insane orders. She finds that she has plenty of time, over the lunch hour, to sit around and enjoy her food. And to wait and see if anyone shows up. No one specific. Just waiting for anyone, of course.

 

She doesn’t, for days. She’s starting to think she’s not planning on coming back again, until Monday morning, when she hears a chime at the door.

 

She starts and looks up from the book she’s reading, sitting with her feet up next to the register. Leslie is standing in the doorway, holding a bell.

 

“I thought you could finally use a new one, so I got you one,” she says with no preamble. “Good thing, seeing as you still haven't gotten one yourself.”

 

“Oh my god,” Ann exclaims around a mouthful of sandwich.

 

Leslie waves a hand as she’s sitting up and closing her book. “No, no don’t get up. Or do. Get me my usual.”

 

“Your usual.” She swallows her last bite of sandwich. “You’ve been here twice, you don’t have a usual. You can't even have a usual here.”

 

“I’ve decided I do now.” Leslie is fixing the new bell to the top corner of the door. Shit, she hadn’t realized how small she really is, standing up on her tiptoes to get it on. And not small in a bad way! In a wow I'd love to see what it would be like to snuggle up with you kind of way. Or... not that.

 

She averts her eyes again before she’s let go and swung the door back into place and the bell chimes. “Wow, seriously, thank you.”

 

“Yeah!” She grins. “And my usual is early 90's albums, for my...”

 

“Boyfriend, yeah.”

 

She turns and heads to the back of the shop, expecting her to follow. After a moment’s pause, she does.

 

“So... is this a regular thing now, you coming here?” she asks as she leads her over to the right section, planning on leaving her to fend for herself in picking out whatever it is she wants now.

 

“Are regular gifts a good thing?”

 

A laugh escapes her. “I guess so.”

 

“Good.” She sounds thoughtful, watching her as she gestures towards the shelves of albums.

 

“Or don't ask me, maybe. I've gotten sort of immune to the whole romance thing.”

 

“Oh... well, right... yeah.”

 

She tucks a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “Yeah, my ex sort of tried to propose to me with a dozen red roses. And played a CD that he got here, right after paying for it...”

 

When she turns around, Leslie’s staring at her in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

 

“No. He literally paid and then got down on his knee.”

 

“And you said no to such a man,” Leslie exclaims in mock amazement.

 

“Well he was a douchebag, so.” Ann stops. “Wow, that’s…oversharing, isn’t it. Sorry.”

 

Leslie thumbs through a few of the albums before stopping on one, pulling it out. “My first high school boyfriend pulled my pants down in front of the rest of our class during recess. We're even.”

 

She gets down on one knee as soon as she’s paid. To get some dirt off her boot! she protests loudly when Ann threatens to kick her.

 

//\\\

 

After that, she starts coming in every Monday.

 

She can’t help it. Part of her knows it’s ridiculous, buying gifts for one person just so she can flirt with another, and all of her knows it’s wrong. It’s not like she’s cheating on Ben, not exactly, but she can’t help feeling guilty.

 

Still. She’s not going to do anything. She didn't make it through months of a long distance relationship while Ben was in D.C. just for her to throw it all away now. He had looked so happy, so excited when he saw her and when she gave him the album, and they agreed to talk about moving in together in a few months, and things couldn't be better. She looks for what he doesn't have, what he might like and brings him a new album every week. She's sure to win the Best Girlfriend of the Year award. Not that she's trying, or anything. Things like that are ridiculous.

 

Besides, it’s not like Ann would ever go out with her anyway. She’s not stupid. She knows she’s out of her league. Gorgeous, successful businesswomen with an adorable smile and laugh to match don’t date... overly enthusiastic, goofy workaholics who devote all their time to women and the outstanding things they do (but more people should because strong ladies are the best!) And there's the big one, of course. Ann's not interested, because she's not gay. Or bi. And to be fair, Leslie isn't either, really, she thinks. There was that one time in college... She's always been intrigued by amazing women, though. But, the point. Ann definitely isn't interested.

 

(April had remarked on all of this after just a few weeks. “Weren’t you going to save up and look into getting a new place?" she asks one day, frowning at the new record player Leslie’s just come home with.

 

“Oh yeah, because I can afford a brand new house,” she replies with sarcasm.

 

“Weren’t you going to get a really shitty house? Because I told you that'd be way cooler?” amends April dryly.

 

Leslie settles into the couch, Champion curling up at her side as she turns the TV off, the program April had left on finally no longer blaring in her ears. “I don’t think I really need one, to be honest, this one is just fine,” she says absently. “And besides, my whole buying Ben gifts thing sort of punched a big hole in the new but shitty house budget.”

 

April smirks as she hears Leslie curse. “Which would be why you’re… still buying him crap every week.”

 

“Well,” Leslie plays with Champion's ears, which pulls a lazy yawn from the dog. “I’ve got the rest of a new place budget to get through. May as well.”)

 

So no. Nothing’s going to happen. There’s no harm in flirting a bit. She's sure Ben has looked at other girls here and there since they’ve been together. Especially in D.C. with all those tall, powerful women who clearly thought he was the greatest thing ever. She can crush on a cute shop owner. It’ll go away, anyway.

 

//\\\

 

Ann starts expecting her every week.

 

She's not always there at the same time. Two weeks after her first visit, on a fucking freezing morning, she shows up at nine with a latte in each hand. One is for her. It’s not at all how she likes it (coffee should have sugar and nothing else, maybe some good cream every once in awhile. But this is some sort of sugary pepperminty monstrosity), but she drinks it anyway, because Leslie stays to drink hers, leaning across the counter from her like she did the first time she came in.

 

The next week she’s there at noon, with a bagel. Which she’s not sharing, she’s sorry to say, because this is the first thing she’s eaten all day, so get your own food, Perkins.

 

(She’s started calling her Perkins. She says it’s a ridiculous surname. But also thinks it's fun and perky, and makes her smile and feel perky when she thinks of it. Ann tries not to think about that, and focuses on yeah, it's a ridiculous surname. But it doesn't sound too ridiculous when Leslie says it.)

 

One week she doesn’t come until five minutes before she's about to close. Ann's about to lock up when she hears the door chime.

 

“I don’t do this for everybody, you know,” she says wryly as she goes back to the back room, dumping some books she's been meaning to go through onto the table.

 

She follows after her, like she does every time. “I know.”

 

Another week she’s there before they even open. She walks round the corner to let herself in and she’s standing there, with a dog by her side.

 

“What on earth are you doing here this early?” Ann asks, stifling a yawn.

 

Leslie wears the dead-eyed expression of an overworked, sleep-deprived crazy person. “Dog had an early vet checkup. He hates vets. This is Champion, by the way.”

 

Champion doesn't know what to think of Ann. Or, so she thinks. She's pretty sure he kept giving her funny looks when Leslie was paying. Or she's the overworked, sleep-deprived crazy person. But, that’s the problem, of course. Not dogs giving her funny looks, but the person with the dog who keeps coming in and buying all these albums. Sometimes Leslie stays for five minutes and sometimes she hangs around for a half hour or more, but it always ends with her leaving to take these thoughtful gifts to someone else.

 

She shouldn’t care this much, she tells herself—she’s a nice person, she's beautiful, but she’s taken. She has plenty of attractive female friends who are just that: friends. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t fit on that list as well, quite comfortably.

 

(She's dating a guy she buys music for that she knows he loves every single week. If she was interested in Ann, she'd—she’s not. Not interested at all. She flirts with everything probably Or, she's nice to everyone and everything. She's nice to Andy! She probably flirts with that fucking dog.)

 

Friends it is, then.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, I know I had promised an update in a week... now one month ago. Sorry about that, things got unbelievably busy and frustrating. But, I'm back! Thanks for sticking with this if you are. Also, this is a much longer chapter, a treat for disappearing for a while.
> 
> A little bit more angsty in this one, but that's when you know things are getting good... I hope. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> P.S. sorry for the fic name change. Been thinking about it for a while and this song just screams these two to me, so. If you're curious let me know so you can cry about it too.

//\\\

 

February slips into March, and then somehow becomes April, and then suddenly it's May. Leslie has decided that the shop needs to sell candy, and chocolate. After work one day and running straight here from the store, because she's really excited she tells Ann. She brings half a dozen different kinds of sour and sweet candies as well as chocolates for Ann to try, in an effort to convince her.

 

“I'm not sure this is your Best Idea Yet, Leslie,” she says thickly through something caramelly.

 

“Chocolate is romantic! Candy is fun!” She's already eaten at least five of everything. “People love candy! Who doesn't love candy with their music? And books!"

 

"I've never heard of anyone eating either while reading, or listening to music..." Ann says dryly.

 

“I do!" Ann's somehow not surprised at all. Leslie quickly adds before she can reply, "Just think, you’ll get more customers and then you’ll become extraordinarily rich. Here try this one.”

 

She eyes the proffered chocolate suspiciously. “It looks like one of the coconut ones.”

 

“It’s not a coconut one. It’s... hazelnut, I think.”

 

“It’s got lumps.”

 

“Ann, they’ve all got lumps. They are lumps. Yummy lumps.”

 

Ann whacks her in the arm with one of the chocolate boxes. “You’re a lump.”

 

“You really are a lump,” calls Andy from the back room.

 

“Shut up, Andy,” they both yell.

 

//\\\

 

Eventually she agrees on one kind of chocolate and one of the sweeter candies, after much cajoling. By this time, Andy has closed up the shop and left, and Leslie and Ann both agree that it would be wrong of them not to finish the last two boxes of chocolate themselves in the back room where there are armchairs, gifts from her parents when she was setting up the shop. They're nothing fancy, but Ann always loved the old furniture from when she was little.

 

They settle in, sharing one of the boxes filled with all sorts of truffles. Ann's pretty sure that if she eats much more she’s going to be sick, but Leslie’s sweet tooth seems unbeatable. And she’s not letting her win. Or, she's going to try to not let her win.

 

For a while, they sit there without talking, and there’s no sound but that of crinkling wrappers. Out of nowhere, without really meaning to, Ann finds herself asking, “What’s Ben like?”

 

Leslie glances up. “What?”

 

“You come in here buying stuff for him every week, but I don’t know much about him except for his name and what he does. Tell me something.”

 

She looks dumbfounded, caught off guard. “I mean. He’s great. He's a campaign manager..." Leslie trails off when Ann gives her a very unamused look, "... Which you already know, right. Well. He's not from here, moved here after a campaign assignment a couple of years ago. He loves a lot of nerdy things, which, I mean... is cute." Leslie's nose scrunches up, rambling a bit, not really sure what she should say.

 

Ann nods, “How long have you two been…?”

 

“A little over a year. He was gone for a good chunk of that, as you know.”

 

“Hm. Is he nice?”

 

“Very nice.”

 

“Good looking?”

 

She clears her throat, covering up an uncomfortable laugh. “Uh, I think so, yes.”

 

“I’d like to meet him sometime,” she says around the sudden tightness in her throat. It's not true at all, but Ann apparently can't stop the random words flying out of her mouth.

 

Leslie crumples up the chocolate wrapper she's had in her hand. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

They fall into silence again.

 

“If I eat any more I might throw up,” Leslie declares after a few more minutes. Apparently that sweet tooth can be beaten. “I should probably get going.”

 

Ann gets to her feet at the same time as she does. “I'll go grab your album, I think Andy left it on the front desk.”

 

“Right, thanks. No, wait,” She looks down around the area they had been sitting, finding her purse. She makes a face as she looks inside, “Actually, I think— crap. I left my wallet at home.”

 

Ann narrows her eyes, knowing Leslie's lying, because how else could she have bought all the candy on her way here without her wallet. “Right. I mean, you can pay next week, it’s fine—”

 

“No, I’ll swing by tomorrow if I have time.” She smiles and pats her on the shoulder somewhat awkwardly. “Hold onto it for me, yeah?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

She watches Leslie let herself out, and then tosses the rest of the chocolate into the waste basket.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie never shows up the next day. She actually picks up her mobile to text her before realizing they’ve never actually exchanged phone numbers.

 

Andy's already gone home, so she texts him instead.

 

**Want to make out?**

 

It isn't the first time they've sent each other that text. It's basically become their version of 'I need to talk' and 'Are you okay?' texts. His reply comes a few minutes later.

 

 **We’ve talked about this, Ann. keep it in your pants.**  
**Unless you're into threesomes.**

 

She smiles a little bit at that, and forces down the lump in her throat.

 

//\\\

 

She's not going back.

 

She repeats this to herself on her way home, and before she falls asleep, and on the drive on the way to Ben’s the next morning. She's not going back. If she goes back, she’s going to—it’s going to get worse. And it can’t get worse. So she isn’t going to go back. Ever again.

 

Instead, she tells Ben that the shop was closed this week, some kind of personal reason.

 

“That's unfortunate to hear,” Ben replies from behind the fridge door. “They’re quite popular, aren’t they?”

 

“Oh, I mean…” Leslie hoists herself up to sit on the kitchen island, swinging her feet. Ben's kitchen always smells like a bakery. One of his hidden talents, apparently, which he's kept hidden until recently, actually. He's pulling something covered in strawberries and icing out of the fridge that he probably made himself just for her. Her stomach growls. “It’s a small place, it’s not like it’s well known or anything, it’s just a corner book shop.”

 

“No, I meant 90s records.” He sets the cake on the counter, plucks a strawberry off the top, and steps over to stand between Leslie's knees. “Everybody loves 90s jams, I'm telling you.”

 

Leslie raises her brows and smiles in a 'sure, whatever you say!' kind of way, then opens her mouth obediently for the strawberry he’s holding up. He grins, then pops it into his own mouth.

 

“Hey!”

 

“I’ve hardly seen you at all these past few weeks since I've been back,” he complains, turning back to the counter and picking up a knife to slice the cake with. “You don’t just get free food now.”

 

“It’s not my fault.” She slips off the kitchen island and walks up behind him, her hands moving to his waist. “April's gone into panic mode about the wedding so I've been working on our projects alone mostly, and there's a big research project for a piece in the magazine coming up. I haven’t even had time to work on my Top Secret project either, much less go gallivanting around town with you. Plus, you work a lot, too.” 

 

Ben leans back into her for a moment before turning around fully, dipping his head to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “It’s a cruel life, being in love with someone so dedicated to work, isn’t it?”

 

Leslie feels herself go very still. Ben must, too, because he stands up straight again, turning back around and resumes slicing the cake without a word.

 

“…are you in love with me?” she asks after a moment, when she finds her voice. They’ve never said that to each other before, she thinks, at least not out loud. Which she thinks must be crazy, because, surely, after this much time...

 

“Of course I’m in love with you,” he replies lightly. “I asked you to move in with me, didn’t I?"

 

She swallows. “Yeah, but…”

 

“We’ve been together what, fifteen months? About time we actually said it, don’t you think?”

 

That's what she was afraid of. With the last one she said it too quickly, most of her life she's said it too quickly, now she's wondering if she hasn't said it soon enough. Not knowing what else to do, she steps a little closer and leans up on her tiptoes to place a kiss at the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course.”

 

He can feel the tenseness in her shoulders. “I mean you don’t have to, like—”

 

“No, no, I do. I am. Duh, course.” She does. She is.

 

Ben makes a pleased sound, and then turns around to face her, their noses nearly touching. “Cake’s ready.”

 

//\\\

 

“Fuck everything,” announces April a few days later.

 

Leslie sits up, blinking. The sun is streaming in thin shafts through the window blinds and there’s an excruciating knot in her back. Oh. She fell asleep at her desk again, didn’t she.

 

“Why are we fucking everything?” she mumbles, stretching and wincing at the pain.

 

She hears April stomp out of her office into the kitchen, which is right off her office. Easy access to snacks when she's working late was her reasoning behind that. Her roommate, she observes when she spins her desk chair around, is wearing a dressing gown she's pretty sure was her grandmothers and the harried expression of the recently undead. There are dark circles below her eyes and her hair is standing up.

 

With a low sigh that dips into a moan at the end, April begins preparing coffee. “Four voicemails from Andy this morning. The place we wanted—he wanted—the little village hall place—is booked up and now we’ve got to go with Plan B, which is apparently the worst plan in the world and is making him sad, because that's where his parents got married and that's important to him and whatever. And he’s just realized we’re broke, apparently, and that he can either get the 'venue of our dreams' or have those extra family members invited that got cut that he felt bad about, but not both.”

 

“Maybe you should just ditch him,” suggests Leslie casually, spinning herself back and forth with one foot. Her usual sense of immediate problem solving and kindness apparently lost in the morning after a third near all nighter in a row.

 

“You’re hilarious.” April takes a long swig of coffee and sets the mug down rather forcefully. Both actions seem to take some of the edge off—she looks less ready to kill now, Leslie thinks.

 

“Oh, and Champion's dying again.”

 

“Ugh,” sighs Leslie, getting up and walking into the kitchen where the dog is sprawled on the floor. She kicks the prone animal gently. “Come on, Champion, live.”

 

Champion just yawns, rolling over to his other side.

 

“It’s your turn to give him that pill.”

 

Oh god. The stupid pills they've had to give him after his last visit to the vets office. “He tried to murder me last time.”

 

“Of the two of us,” replies April mildly after another gulp of coffee, “you can afford to get murdered. Your love life and future isn't riding on a dumb giant party to celebrate said love." 

 

Leslie thinks that's a bit dramatic, even for April. “God help Andy,” mutters Leslie.

 

She's walking back to her bedroom to attempt finding clothes for the day and a quick shower when April adds from the kitchen, “Oh, and our DJ pulled out.”

 

Shit.

 

“Apparently weddings need fun music, for that party after the wedding, or whatever it's called, and Andy's band isn't available either since he left, you know,” April continues, “and if we can't have music and dance to our song, then you can’t get married. So, I was thinking you talk to Ann about possibly helping out, since she runs a music store and you're good friends now, maybe she knows some people, or can do it herself?"

 

April only hears the slam of Leslie's bedroom door. She's never really seen her like this, usually she's a machine that just keeps going and never seems to slow down or stop smiling. Still, April finishes off her coffee and looks down at Champion, who sits up a bit, excited, tail wagging and a small grin makes its way across her face.

 

She knows Leslie's gonna go back.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie comes back on a Wednesday.

 

She’s walking back out to the front of the shop carrying a huge cardboard cutout display of new hard to find classics that just came in, which she's super excited about and couldn't believe she got her hands on, and stayed up rather late designing the cutout. Andy had hovered over her shoulder between his manic wedding planning to comment on just how nerdy she is. Who cares. Watching her step, because she can’t see a thing, she sets the cutout in the window, and that's when she sees Leslie, turning around the corner and making her way to the door, stepping in.

 

Ann stays frozen in her spot by the window as Leslie walks across the room, shaking herself a bit as if she's preparing herself to be here. She stops in front of the small display of candies by the counter, eyeing it like she's extremely pleased. When she finally turns around and looks at her, a grin spreads across her face.

 

“You did use my genius candy scheme,” she says, approaching her.

 

Her mouth has gone suddenly dry. “Yeah, they’re… people like them.”

 

She stops in front of her, just staring at her.

 

She clears her throat after a moment. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Two weeks.”

 

“I know,” she says softly.

 

“The usual, then?” she asks, ignoring the way Leslie's voice creates a little twist of pleasure somewhere deep inside her.

 

She’s halfway back to the counter when she speaks up, stopping her. “No. Well, yes, actually, but, I was just wondering if… do you do weddings? Or like, can you? I... don't know.”

 

Ann freezes. She feels sick to her stomach suddenly.

 

“Um…” Fuck, she’s gone shaky, her voice has gone fucking shaky, fuck fuck fuck—

 

“Not for me,” Leslie adds hastily. “Just...”

 

“Oh!”

 

"... in general.”

 

“Oh, okay!” Ann turns around again and hopes to god she’s not blushing, or hasn’t gone too pale, or doesn’t have fucking stars in her eyes or anything. “Uh, what for? Like, I don't. I don't do that."

 

“Well, April said she and Andy needed someone to handle music for the wedding, since their DJ backed out, and Andy isn't on good terms with his band.”

 

Ann blinks. Andy hadn't brought that up with her or anything. And she's wondering why Leslie, and not Andy, or even April is here asking her about this. "Well, I mean. Andy's the music expert, but I suppose I can give it a shot. I can't really make him do it himself."

 

Leslie drums her knuckles on the countertop. “Yeah, she just wanted me to ask, she’s been kind of losing it planning and stuff, and they don't have all the money in the world, so...”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I'll consider it a wedding gift to him, to both of them. We'll see if he's taught me anything over the years.”

 

"Great, awesome! I'm sure they'll appreciate it. Oh. And I would like my usual, too, of course,” she smiles.

 

Ann smiles back, and heads into the back room. Andy's not come in yet, thank god—he’s mostly been working afternoons lately, spending his mornings dealing with wedding business. She's not really interested in dealing with any smug questions from him right now. There’s a lightness in her body that wasn’t there five minutes ago— she feels like she’s just had a shot of caffeine poured into her limbs. It’s been two weeks and she’s back. Two and a half weeks, really. Seventeen days. Not that she’s been keeping track! Not at all. Andy and April, between their busy schedules have kept her too busy for that, distracting her with movie nights and dinner out, a couple times with April's friend, Katherine, who she's pretty sure April was trying to set her up with. Which forced her into questioning Andy about whether or not he told April what he knows. He swore he didn't, but she should at least try to get out there. And maybe stop going after guys that are never right, for a lot of reasons. She hates when he's insanely wise sometimes.

 

Not that Katherine isn’t lovely, obviously. And not that she needed a pity date. It’s not like she’s been dumped or anything. Leslie's a friend—she’s not even that, really. They’ve hung out once or twice. In Ann's shop. Because she’s a customer, and there needs to be a boundary, for christ’s sake, or she’s going to get in over her head. Again. Yup, that's all, the whole story.

 

Anyway, she’s only back now for The Usual she reminds herself as she reaches for something she thinks Leslie's boyfriend might enjoy, not really caring, and heads back out to the front. Plus, she basically came here as well to hire her for their friends wedding. Which, is weird.

 

(Again, April could easily have come herself says a quiet part of her, but she hushes it up. She's also starting to think this all knowing each other somehow but never really spending time as a group thing is getting ridiculous.)

 

Leslie is waiting by the register when she comes back out. She takes the album without bothering to look at what's been handed to her.

 

“This place has really changed since I’ve been gone.” She says, sighing forlornly.

 

“Oh shut up,” Ann laughs as she rings her up.

 

“I don’t even recognize it anymore.” Her eyes are practically sparkling. “I walked past three times outside before I realized where I was."

 

“Yeah, it’s been so long,” she jokes.

 

Leslie chuckles, then does an exaggerated double-take, staring at her. “Oh my god. Ann! You're Ann!”

 

“What?!”

 

“It’s you! It’s really you!” She drops the album onto the counter dramatically and grabs her wrists. “I hardly recognized you, you look so—”

 

“Do. NOT. Say old.”

 

“—ravaged by the passage of time!”

 

“Right.” She pulls her hands back. (Leslie's never touched her before. Not like that. Her wrists burn.) “Just for that I’m keeping your card.”

 

Leslie's hands have retreated and are stuffed in her jacket pockets. “Actually, what you should be doing is giving me a cut of your profits for my brilliant chocolate idea.”

 

She leans forward on the counter. Boundaries, her brain whispers. There’s nothing inappropriate about leaning on a counter, the other half of her brain hisses back.

 

“You’re so funny.” Leslie's leaning over and plucking her credit card back from where it’s sitting next to the register. She can smell her—perfume? Shampoo? Whatever is it, is smells amazing. “You should add cartoons to your magazine, get some comedy in there.”

 

“I’m just saying, it was my brainchild.”

 

“A brainchild,” Ann deadpans.

 

“It's clearly added to your revenue—”

 

“Putting some candy at the counter isn't that big of deal!”

 

“—so I think I deserve some sort of recognition.”

 

“Come hang out with us tomorrow night,” she blurts out.

 

 _BOUNDARIES_ screams her brain. That other voice is telling her you were just complaining about how you all don't hangout, so you've only brought this upon yourself, Perkins. 

 

Leslie's mouth falls open in surprise for half a second, and her hand goes like a magnet to her hair, running through it and leaving it messier than before. Like she always does when she’s taken aback, Ann thinks fondly. Or nervously.

 

It’s just a split second, of course, and she quickly replies, “Yeah, uh… who’s ‘us’?”

 

“Oh, just me, Andy and April, April's friend Katherine, works with her at the animal shelter.” Ann waves her hand. “And some other people, perhaps. We’re just hanging out at Andy and I's place. There’ll be drinks and we’re going to watch a really stupid movie, just for laughs.” Shut up, you stupid woman. “Might be fun.” Shut your mouth oh my god. “Just as like a compensation reward thing for your…” STOP TALKING AND WALK AWAY. “…brilliant, groundbreaking, innovative Sell The Customers Candy initiative.”

 

A slow smile has been spreading across Leslie’s face. “You've sold me on it. Stupid movies are the best.”

 

She’s smiling too, now. “Really?!”

 

“Yeah.” She grabs the album and taps it lightly on the counter in front of her. “I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

“All right.”

 

“See you then.”

 

“See you.”

 

She watches her leave. Her pulse, she notices absently, is very fast. Leslie can't tell she does this to her, can she? Because that would be bad.

 

She starts upright suddenly. She’s been leaning there on the counter for god knows how long, and Leslie has just re-appeared out of nowhere, poking her head through the door.

 

“Sorry, where do you live?”

 

“What?”

 

“For tomorrow night.” She sounds out of breath. “I don’t know where your... I suppose I could ask April, but...”

 

Ann grins like a fool. This woman came back, just to ask her where she lives, and Ann can't help but hope it's just an excuse to see her a moment longer. Ann feels a blush rising beneath her cheeks. Don't be ridiculous, she thinks to herself. 

 

“Right off Sullivan street, you can't miss it...”

 

“By that giant pit, right?” Leslie says with an amused grin.

 

“Yep. And we’re—” The blush is spreading to her neck, damn it. “We’re probably, like... people are coming over around six.” She knows she sounds like a fumbling idiot.

 

“Okay, cool.”

 

For no reason at all, Ann picks up random chocolate bars set out. She supposes it’s better than just standing there, looking like a goof.

 

“I'll let April know you're up for it, the music thing.” Leslie adds almost as an afterthought.

 

“Right. I look forward to the task.”

 

“Prepare yourself,” warns Leslie darkly.

 

When she looks up again after what she hopes is a plausible amount of time to spend examining a chocolate bar, she’s vanished.

 

You’re a fucking genius, Ann.

 

//\\\

 

You’re a fucking genius, Leslie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I couldn't help myself with the little mention of the pit. call me a sucker for the thing that brought these two together in canon. anyway, I promise I'll try to better with updates!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at that, an update that didn't take a month! I blame being back in school and the always present desire to ignore homework and do other things, lol.
> 
> things of note, both Ann and Leslie's ages come up in this chapter, and I decided to have them a little older as if it were later in the series, I feel that's right for me doing this story, but not as old as they would be right now if the show were still on. just something I wanted to establish. I'll mention that a tiny bit more in the endnotes for fun.
> 
> other than that, I hope you enjoy!

//\\\

 

She debates even showing up at all, but if she’s honest, it’s a halfhearted struggle. She knows she’s going to go in the end. Even if it had nothing to do with Ann, she’d still go, she likes Andy well enough and of course April, and she's pretty sure she's met this friend of April's, but she could be wrong. She meets a lot of people, it's hard to keep track sometimes, so who knows. Anyway, the point is it’s always good to go out and spend time with friends, especially when you work as much as she does. And it’s not like Ann invited Ben, it’d be rude to just bring someone else along without an invitation. She has no reason to feel guilty about that.

 

And now she’s at the door.

 

Andy lets her in. Well, opens the door and stares at her.

 

“Hi,” says Leslie after a somewhat odd silence.

 

“You’re here,” says Andy.

 

Leslie scratches the back of her neck. “Is… that okay?”

 

Andy shakes his head, eyes suddenly bright and a smile to match now on his face. "Oh my god, duh, of course! I didn't think you would come, sorry, come on get in here!"

 

There are shelves of books, and albums everywhere—it’s the first thing she notices. Vases of flowers adorn the shelves as well. There's books on tables and end-tables and the desk by the far window, and pictures hanging on the wall. Photos of Ann and Andy from college, a baby picture of Ann, various pictures of Ann doing all sorts of activities and growing up, and one she assumes is Ann and her parents. There's a picture of Andy with his arms around Ann and cheesing for the camera, Ann's in a cap and gown so it must be from her college graduation. Really quite a lot of them, as well as the books. You’d think someone whose work is, well, basically all of this, would get tired of bringing her work home with her. She chuckles to herself, thinking good one, you're one to talk.

 

“Everybody’s in the kitchen,” Andy says. He’s wearing another one of his trademark band t-shirts, Leslie realizes. “We’re trying to agree on drinking game rules. Feel free to throw your coat on the sofa.”

 

So she does and Andy disappears into the kitchen, where voices and intermittent laughter can be heard. Leslie doesn’t follow him right away. She stands in the lounge, looking around at the space, Ann’s space. Ann’s overflowing bookshelf. Ann's DVDs, and most likely Andy's as well, in piles around the tv stand.

 

And Ann. She’s appeared in front of her. She’s wearing… whoa. That… that is a low neckline, that is…interesting. And those are her legs. Those are definitely her legs.

 

“You came!” she smiles, handing her a glass of something.

 

“Yeah!” She looks at her eyes. Still dangerous, but not as… bad. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

 

She laughs surprisingly hard at that. It hits her then that they’re going to be drinking a lot of wine tonight. Maybe this was a bad idea.

 

“You like it?” Ann asks, waving her hand around generally.

 

“Your place? Yeah, yeah, it’s… lots of books.” Lots of books. Smooth, Leslie.

 

“Of course there’s lots of books, I’m a book... person, that’s what I do, I... book it.”

 

“You book it.”

 

“I book it!” She’s grinning at her, and she can’t help but grin back and take a sip of whatever it is Ann's given her. It turns out to be white wine. She probably would have known that already if she’d managed to take her eyes off of her. Her and her very interesting dress and her lipstick that looks different, somehow, than usual, like it’s brighter or darker or something or maybe her mouth is just lit perfectly in the warmer, softer light of her own home.

 

She takes another sip of her drink. “You book it unlike anyone I’ve ever seen,” she tells her sincerely.

 

“I have been booking it for years, man! Since before you were born!"

 

“Well I’m nearly forty, so...”

 

“No you’re not!” Ann steps back, and the heat that she hadn’t realized existed between them dissipates. “That's old!” Leslie thinks she might already be drunk, or tipsy, and spouting off nonsense, which is oddly hilarious to Leslie. So, she plays along.

 

“I am! The oldest!”

 

“Well, I'm nearing that mark as well so I can't judge.”

 

“Ha! Also, no way. You don't like a day over thirty, thirty-five at least.”

 

Ann actually giggles at that, a real giggle she hasn't heard on an adult in, maybe her entire adult life, and grabs her by the arm and drags her into the kitchen. She nearly spills her drink on the way, but she doesn’t really care.

 

//\\\

 

Ann decides, after her third glass of wine, that Andy makes a good pillow.

 

They’re all sitting on the floor, their backs against the couch, newspapers, rice and different assorted items all over the floor—

 

(“Why are we—”

 

“It’s tradition, Leslie—”

 

“But it doesn’t—”

 

“Also you can shut your face. It’s a stupid face anyway.”

 

“Yours is stupider, Perkins.”

 

For that she gets a rubber glove thrown at her head.)

 

—and trying not to kick over each other’s drinks, and Ann’s not really paying attention to the movie anymore, having checked out after the first go round of the Time Warp, and because she’s sleepy, and warm, and she could lean to the right and rest her head on Leslie’s shoulder, or she could lean to the left and curl up against Andy. And Andy is much less confusing.

 

So she stays like that, his shoulder poking into her temple and her heels dug slightly into Leslie’s calves, even after Andy complains that she’s making his arm fall asleep, to which April tosses rice at him and tells him to be a good pillow. The movie moves along, the group participating at every moment they're supposed to with the props. If Ann's being honest with herself, the whole reasoning behind sticking by Andy's side is another excuse to avoid contact and conversation with Katherine, who did come after all. They had exchanged pleasantries, of course, Ann isn't rude, and had decent conversation when everyone was in the kitchen. But she's still certain Katherine is supposed to be someone she's supposed to get along with, then ask out for coffee and then date. She isn't interested in that, and Andy, as goofy as he is at times, has never been wrong when it comes to Ann's feelings and sensed her discomfort the moment it was announced it's movie watching time, so he moved on over to her side. Sometimes she doesn't know what she did to be as lucky as she is to have a friend like Andy in her life.

 

As for the other thing keeping her mind racing, Leslie, who's seen the movie before she’s learned but never properly, sits on the other side of her. She had let Andy and April teach Leslie all the right things to shout at the television at the right moments, when to use props and she had taken it upon herself to teach Leslie the Time Warp dance, which had been a hilarious disaster at first and Leslie still doesn't quite get it, but that smile she had on her face, well, Ann wasn't capable of correcting her anymore.

 

Eventually Andy scrambles to his feet to go find more beer, and Ann doesn’t have anyone to lean on now. She slumps over onto the floor, half laughing at herself, and catches Katherine eyeing her with a grin and chuckle, but then she feels Leslie’s hands on her upper arm and she’s pulled upright again until she’s leaning against her. The grin on Katherine's face, she notices, is gone. Interesting.

 

Leslie's not looking at her—she’s let go of her already, and is laughing at April's attempt to throw toast up into the air, only for it to hit her in the face—but Ann presses her face into Leslie's shoulder. Her gray shoulder.

 

“You wear… a lot gray,” she mumbles.

 

“Gray is a common color.” She elbows her gently. “And specifically, this is light gray, makes me seem social and approachable.”

 

Ann snorts loudly at that. “Were you afraid you wouldn't already appear that way?”

 

“Don't tease. It's great for work. Color psychology is a real and interesting topic. Politicians use it when it comes to the things they wear.”

 

"You're at a party, not even, just a casual hang, not on the political trail."

 

"Your words wound me, Ann."

 

She wants to retort with something—something sarcastic and funny, but Leslie's sweater smells too nice. She leaves her face there, and Leslie doesn’t move. Eventually Ann mumbles out, "You'd make a good president, I would vote for you."

 

She looks up enough to see a small grin on Leslie's face.

//\\\

 

"How come you didn't go with Ben when he went to D.C.?” she asks her.

 

The movie ended a while ago and they’re standing in a kitchen of dim lights and mostly empty bottles, Ann rinsing off dishes and bowls and cups under the tap. Andy's gone out to drive Katherine home, and April is passed out on the couch.

 

Leslie feels a bit like she’s underwater. She takes the plate that Ann hands her and swipes at it blurrily with a towel.

 

Ann waits for her to answer.

 

“I... don't know, work I guess.” she says finally. The plate feels heavy in her hands. “I mean, I couldn't exactly up and leave, and working out of state wasn't convenient since a lot of the work I do for the magazine is local. And... he had asked. Which means we would've been living together. I don't think I was ready for that.”

 

The running tap water fills the silence. Then: “Why not?”

 

“I don’t know.” She sets the plate down half dry. “I don’t know. I mean. I've lived on my own most of my adult life, excluding of course living with April, which I really do enjoy. And I have a history of being too into someone and scaring them off, couldn't really imagine myself living with a guy that I'm dating, especially so soon.”

 

It makes sense in her head.

 

“So you told him no and stayed.”

 

“I’d have to see him every day,” she tries to explain.

 

Ann turns off the tap and looks at her. Looks at her with confusion. “You don’t want to see your boyfriend every day?”

 

“No, that’s—” Fuck it, she thinks she might be too drunk to try to say words—“I mean, I have a lot of weird habits, it freaked me out knowing he'd see me at every moment of my life and I don't want him seeing that. Didn't. Didn't want him to. We're planning on it, or thinking about it now that he's back.”

 

Ann’s still looking at her, so she snatches up a glass that she’s already dried and sets at it again.

 

“What kind of people do you want to see every day?” she asks after a minute, ignoring the possibly moving in with Ben part.

 

 _You_ is what she hears in the back of her mind. _You_. She stops what she’s doing and meets her eyes. _Say it. I want to see you every day. Not once a week. Every day and night._

 

Ann's lips are parted, there’s mascara clumping in the corner of her left eye and her hair is loose over her shoulders.

 

It's the sudden realization that she's thought that to herself, and means it, and the fact that she thinks Ann is about to kiss her that prompts her to freeze and drop the glass she's holding.

 

Ann lets out a small shriek—“Shit!” and she practically jumps backwards— "Sorry, oh god!" Leslie staggers back and looks around helplessly. “Do you have a broom, or, like... a broom, or something—”

 

“I’ll get it.” Ann steps over the shattered mess. She fiddles about in the closet in the corner and Leslie leans back on the counter. Her heart is pounding. Her head is pounding.

 

“You should go home,” Ann slurs a bit, emerging with a broom and dustpan.

 

She wants to think of something to say, ideally something that will end with her not going home, because going home means not being with Ann, beautiful, wonderful Ann, and that dress of hers, that black dress, that’s going to keep her up at nights she's sure. She's tongue tied though and can't think of anything to say, eventually mumbling out a lame, “Good luck cleaning.”

 

Ann grunts in response and sweeps her out of the kitchen, and she walks slowly to the front door and out into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the age thing: on the Parks wiki, it has Ann as just a year younger than Leslie, which would make her several years older than Andy so for the sake of this fic I'm obviously not gonna go exactly by what's on there because obviously those two knew each other in college. fun stuff! lol.
> 
> anyway, hopefully I'll be quick again with an update.
> 
> OH, and if you know what movie they all watched you're super cool and if you haven't seen it or done this yourself, get on it. it's a blast.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspiration has been hitting me big time which is exciting because quicker updates.
> 
> things get a little more angsty here folks, it's that time in the story. things also quite literally get out across the table. next chapter should be fun following this. thanks for sticking with me, hope you enjoy.

//\\\

 

The dawn comes chilly and a bit too bright. Ann shakes off her hangover and cleans up the living room, her palms sweating a bit, her hands shaking maybe more than she would have expected. Something exciting is fluttering in the hollow of her throat. She vacuums the rice and toast crumbs on the floor and picks up the discarded rubber gloves and shoves them into the cabinet under the kitchen sink and when she returns to the living to tidy up the couch that's when she notices a pink scarf poking out from under the couch, and she can’t stop the smile that suddenly feels like it’s going to burst through her.

 

Something happened last night. Or very nearly happened. She doesn’t think she was imagining the look on Leslie’s face during those five or ten seconds when they both stood still in front of the sink, eyes locked and breaths held. If Leslie hadn’t been so amazingly clumsy they might have kissed.

 

She’s been denying how she feels about her for a while now, she knows that—but she also knows, with a thrill, that maybe she doesn’t have to deny it anymore. But, of course, nothing can happen. And now she's sick thinking about being someone who almost kisses someone else who's in a relationship.

 

Her stomach has begun to rumble impatiently, so she tries to ignore the bad feelings and blame it on hunger, remembering that she didn’t eat much last night, preferring to spend most of her time pretending not to stare at Leslie and avoiding anymore conversation with Katherine. They don’t usually open the shop until noon on Sundays; a glance at the clock on the DVD player tells her it's nearly ten. Having noticed already that April was no longer on the couch, she pokes her head into Andy's room, which is empty so she grabs her phone from her bedroom and sends him a text.

 

**Where'd you end up last night?**  
**Also, hangover food?**

 

His reply comes a few minutes later. 

 

**I came home, you were out cold.**  
**April and I left an hour ago. Wedding stuff.**  
**And we'll meet you at JJ's in fifteen minutes.**

 

She grins. She probably won’t tell Andy about the kitchen thing. He’ll be horrible about it. He’ll give her one of his leering eyebrowy faces and make some disgusting innuendo or something.

 

… Maybe she’ll tell him.  
  


//\\\  
  


She’s not telling him.

 

They've brought Leslie along with them. Ann sees them sitting sitting in a corner booth by the window, Andy stuffing hashbrowns into his mouth, April sipping coffee and Leslie beside her cutting into waffles. They look exhausted but in a good mood.

 

She has no idea what Leslie's doing there, but now she wishes she’d done a bit more to herself than just thrown on leggings and a sweater, her hair up in a loose ponytail. For a moment she seriously considers running back home and putting on some makeup, but Leslie’s seen her now, and both she and April wave. Sighing, Ann waves back and then makes her way over.

 

“Morning, Perkins,” Leslie greets her. April grunts her own hello and Andy mumbles around his mouthful of food.

 

“Hey!” Ann shifts the strap of her handbag self-consciously on her shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here, Leslie.”

 

“Yeah, we ran into each other.” Leslie gestures at April and Andy and the impressive display of food laid out on the table between the three of them. "Andy decided you should pay for our food since you’re the one who got us drunk.”

 

“Oh ha-ha, very funny.” Ann scoffs.

 

She sits down next to Andy, thankful the empty seat isn't by Leslie and elbows him until he scoots giving her more room. She sits there quietly, attempting to get her nerves under control and wondering did they really just happen to bump into each other here, or on the way? She's fiddling nervously with her ponytail holder. Or is it possible that she’s here on purpose, expecting to see her? She and Andy always come here for hangover food, but there’s no way Leslie could have known that.

 

“Come on, eat up,” Andy tells her, having piled up hashbrowns, toast, eggs and bacon onto an extra plate and sliding it over to her. Adding, "Don't make me eat all this food again, it's embarrassing."

 

She chews sullenly and ignores him. Leslie, she notices, is also not saying anything. She stares resolutely at the plate of food in front of her and tries to work out through her peripheral vision whether or not she’s watching her. April, she notices, looks back and forth from Leslie to Ann, a smirk making its way across her face.

 

“So, how'd Operation Seduce Katherine go last night, any development there?” April asks after a bit.

 

Ann freezes, but feels her eyes go wide and she nearly chokes.

 

“W-what?!”

 

Andy glances at her sidelong, sitting up straight and then eyeing April as April continues, “Oh come on. That was the whole point in having her there, too.”

 

"You HAVE been trying to set me up with her!" Ann exclaims, turning to look at Andy who looks stricken. "You said you didn't tell her anything! I fucking knew it!" 

 

Leslie, she notices has gone completely still, face blank as she leans back, watching the two of them.

 

“Of course I was trying to set you up!” April is being far too casual about this. She’s not even looking at her, she’s just eating toast like a… like a casual person. “You desperately need a date, and from what I've observed, avoiding men might be the answer and Katherine is too picky for anyone else I've tried to set her up with.”

 

“I don’t—I’m not—I don’t desperately need a date.”

 

“You need a good lay,” she replies mildly.

 

Leslie chokes on her drink suddenly. Ann gapes at April. They’re not exactly alone in this restaurant, a fact she is suddenly excruciatingly aware of as a teenaged janitor shuffles past their booth with a mop and pail.

 

“I’m not sleeping with Katherine,” she hisses, and April shrugs.

 

“You haven’t been with anyone since Mark, man, you need to get back in the game.”

 

“I can get back in the game on my own!”

 

Leslie sets down her drink. “Right, it’s probably time someone filled me in about Mark.”

 

Ann sighs in exasperation and Andy who's been quiet for a while now leans forward across the table, his next words accompanied by a series of helpful hand motions. Ann is not sure she’s ever loathed her friends more. “So, Mark. Two years. A decent guy at the beginning, turned into an asshole about… what was it, a year in?”

 

“Seems about right,” Ann mumbles.

 

“Right. Cheated on her with some girl at a bar, which, douchebag kind of move. Then he tried to fix it by marrying her.”

 

“I heard about the proposal thing,” Leslie says. Ann feels like her face is on fire.

 

“Yeah, not Mark’s shining moment, of which there are many,” continues Andy. “But anyway, all the assholery sort of came out after Ann turned him down, and he ends up moving and going to—where is he now?”

 

“Somewhere in California.”

 

“California. And Ann here—” he claps her on the shoulder—“hasn’t been on a date since.”

 

“I’ve been on dates,” Ann argues weakly. “Just not like more than one. Like with one …person.”

 

Andy’s arm slips around her neck and he shakes her affectionately. “It’s been almost a year. It’s quite sad, really.” April snorts at that.

 

“That’s a long time,” Leslie agrees, and Ann’s head snaps up.

 

“I’ve always said I’d take the fall for her if it weren't for April here,—” “TAKE THE FALL FOR ME—” “—but it’s not meant to be.”

 

“It would be a fucking honor for you to date me.” Ann slaps his arm away. “I’m gorgeous.”

 

Andy makes a face, April actually laughs and Leslie is looking at her thoughtfully.

 

“Besides,” she continues, picking at a piece of bacon, her pulse quickening, “Katherine isn’t the only one who’s picky. I’m a catch, I demand a catch in return. Not wasting this—” She gestures down the length of her body—“on just any random person.”

 

“Okay, fine, wanna try one more guy? I know one, and when it doesn't work out, again, you'll come asking for my help.” says April. Ann drops her piece of bacon onto her plate and rests her head in the palm of her propped up hand, sighing.

 

Andy makes a disapproving sound and tosses his own piece of bacon at April. Ann feels like she needs to swallow. A lot. “I don’t know…” she manages as calmly as she can.

 

“I can give you his number if you want!” April pulls out her phone. “Seriously, he's not that bad, he’s quite funny. Who knows, you two could get along.”

 

Ann feels too sick, suddenly, to put up much of a fight. She hands her phone to April and April types out the number. Andy's still eating, and Leslie's back to staring blankly.

 

April's about to hand her phone back when Leslie takes it suddenly, “I’ll stick my number in here, too, may as well, right?” Leslie goes on. “Oops, what have I done… this looks wrong…”

 

She fiddles helplessly with the phone before giving up and handing it back to her. She takes it numbly. Leslie, for her part, seems to be handling the rapid fire events of the last few moments, and if it does bother her, she isn't showing it.

 

“I’m Lezel Knop, apparently, but you can fix that on your own,” she grins.

 

Ann laughs. To her it sounds forced, but she hopes Leslie doesn’t notice. She’s a good actor—she’s spent enough of her life learning how to disguise disappointment, however brutal, from other people’s eyes and ears.

 

Andy, though—Andy is her best friend in the world, and she’s never quite been able to hide it from him. Next to her his posture tenses a bit, and she knows he’s picked up on something. He pokes her hand.

 

“And if this dude isn’t into you, I can always be your boyfriend. April will understand.” April glares at him, but there's a hint of a smile on her face and as annoyed as Ann is right now, the fact that April even seems interested in her happiness is a step up from where they started when a comment like Andy just made would've sparked an all out feud.

 

"I'm sure she would.”

 

“What do you think, Leslie? How 'bout we ruin this possible date so I can sweep Ann off her feet.” Andy glances at Leslie, who makes a face, but Andy just goes on.

 

"No kissing though, that's where I draw the line. That'd be too weird."

 

“Oh, thanks,” Ann mutters.

 

“I'm sure you're perfectly good at it, ”Andy says hastily, “But no, if I had a sister, I imagine that's what kissing you would be like.”

 

Ann kicks him under the table and turns her attention back to her meal. Not that she has any appetite anymore. The hangover that was so easy to ignore fifteen minutes ago has become unbearable, and she wishes she’d brought aspirin or something with her. Her head throbs, and there’s a vile taste in her mouth that her food is doing very little to mask.

 

She wonders, as Andy goes back to eating and listening to April and Leslie talking about work related things, whether it’s possible that Leslie just forgot last night. Maybe she was drunk enough that she doesn’t remember the moment in the kitchen. She didn’t seem too far gone, but then again she’s never been drunk with her before—maybe she’s the type to black out easily.

 

It’s a stupid thing to wonder. She knows she’s grasping at straws. After both April and Andy seem satisfied, they make to leave. Leslie moves to let April out, Andy following suit by edging past her and nearly sitting on her in the process, and then holds his hand out for the money he says she owes him.

 

“Fuck you so hard.” She fishes around in her handbag until she comes up with whatever's in there and hands it to him.

 

As April and Andy head out the door, she wonders if Leslie is going to leave right now, but that's answered quickly when Leslie sits back down. Not knowing what to say, she jokes, "I'd give you money, too, but I gave Andy all my change."

 

Leslie just laughs. “I destroyed one of your cups last night, we’ll call it even.”

 

“Oh!” Another pang of disappointment, but duller this time. It’s not like she shouldn’t have expected it. “You remember that, then.”

 

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

 

She thinks of Leslie's parted lips, her slightly unfocused gaze, and the scent of wine on her breath. “You seemed pretty drunk.”

 

“Nah.” Leslie shifts a bit in her seat, tossing her napkin on her empty plate. “When I’m really drunk I start randomly singing at the top of my lungs, very out of tune I might add. There's one recorded account of me kissing a janitor at a holiday work party. The singing though is usually a good sign to cut me off.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“Not proud of it,” she says, as someone comes to clear their table, “but there you go.”

 

“Good thing we didn’t let you have any more wine,” Ann forces herself to smile as Leslie puts her card down, waving Ann off saying she's got it, she's more polite than Andy.

 

“Eugh.” Leslie grins. “Seriously.”

 

After the bill is paid they walk out together, and part at the corner—Leslie heading home to the left, Ann to the right. She bites her lip as she walks to her car, getting in a slumping in her seat.

 

She needs to ring Andy.

 

“I just got rid of you,” he sighs teasingly in her ear a moment later.

 

“I know, I just…” 

 

"If you're going to yell at me about April knowing, again I didn't tell her anything, I..."

 

"Andy... I believe you."

 

"I'm sorry she did it there, in front of Leslie. That wasn't cool."

 

She sighs, shaky and frustrated. "Maybe it doesn't matter, maybe it's a good thing it's out there. Maybe I can stop pretending."

 

"You know we only want the best for you."

 

God, she feels like she’s about to cry. There’s a split second when she nearly just tells him everything, but some old warning ache in her heart stops her, and instead she swallows her words and then starts her car. “I’m not feeling well, can you run things yourself this afternoon?”

 

She knows he knows, but he’s good enough to pretend he doesn’t. “Yeah, sure. I told you to eat more last night.”

 

“Yeah. Stupid of me. Thanks, man.”

 

“No problem.” His voice is gentle. “Feel better.”

 

“Yeah,” she chokes back, hanging up. When she reaches her house, she opens the door and walks straight to her room, and by the time she falls into bed, she has resolved to stop imagining things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also: don't ask why I sent Mark all the way to California, just know I wanted him as far away from Ann as possible because gross. also really enjoyed writing more of Ann and Andy's friendship in this. totally in love with them as buddies, honestly. writing them isn't helping.
> 
>  
> 
> anyway, I should stop talking so much in my notes. until next time...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! hope you're well. life is still just a bit too crazy, but writing this, escaping to this little world has been a nice thing. and here's another chapter.
> 
> nothing important to note, just more leslie and ann bonding and silliness. enjoy it while it lasts... was that not vague enough? hmm...
> 
> i hope you enjoy, and i'll see you for the next chapter.

//\\\

 

Leslie wakes up with too much sun in her eyes.

 

She clambers blindly out of bed and shoves the window curtains closed. It’s not supposed to be this light out. The alarm clock says it’s half past nine. She swears softly and tries to rub some of the sleep out of her eyes.

 

Leslie heads into the bathroom, wondering if she’s actually got dark circles under her eyes by now. You’ve got to get more sleep, she tells herself. It’s a halfhearted rebuke. She'd be kidding herself if she thought it would happen anytime soon.

 

The face looking back at her in the mirror is… pretty grim. Jesus. At least a night out, with hangover would mean she’d been having fun, as opposed to staying up revising her latest piece for the magazine into the small hours of the morning.

 

Even that might be fun (pathetic as it might be), if she weren’t sort of just doing the whole working too late thing to distract herself from what’s really on her mind, because if she goes to bed at a reasonable hour, she doesn't fall asleep, she thinks and thinks and thinking isn't good. She’s actually become incredibly productive this week, what with all this effort to keep herself from thinking about Ann. The guilt that eats away at her every time she enters her thoughts has only gotten worse since that night at her house. Now that she knows—she knows—for the first time she knows that it’s not all in her head, that she feels something too, something more than friendship—she feels lucky to even get friendship from someone like her, and now they've come just that close to kissing each other, and the thought makes her heart want to burst out of her chest—

 

And of course, now that she knows for sure about Ann, and Ann's feelings, it’s become harder and harder to remember what she promised Ben. That she’ll commit to the idea of living together, to really moving forward with their relationship.

 

She wonders, as she starts brushing her teeth, whether Ann ever connected with that guy April said she should try seeing last week. She hasn’t seen her since that morning at the diner. Part of her hopes, violently, that she never called the number April gave her. That the next time she sees her, she’ll say something about it being bad timing, or not being ready to date yet, and then look up at her sideways with one of her lovely grins, sending a jolt through every vein in her body at once. And then...

 

You don’t get that, she reminds herself viciously, staring into the mirror. You don’t get that luxury. You're not with Ann.

 

She spends a few minutes looking for a clean shirt before giving up. She’s not going to get anything else done this morning until she’s got some caffeine in her system.

 

When she walks out of the hallway and turns the corner, she sees Ann in her kitchen.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie is shirtless. With Pajama bottoms on, and a bra, but still shirtless. Leslie is right there, stopped dead in her tracks staring at her.

 

She realizes probably a beat too late that they’re both staring at each other and jumps up from where she’s sitting at the kitchen table. “Hello! Hi. Sorry! You’re probably not—”

 

“You’re in my kitchen—”

 

“I am. Yeah. In your kitchen.” Oh god where is she supposed to look? The floor? Is it too obvious if she looks at the floor? “April said you’d be asleep, she said you were up late or something, I’m really sorry if I woke you up, I was trying to be, like, quiet…”

 

“Are you… is there…”

 

Ann risks a quick glance. Leslie is running her hand through her hair. Repeatedly. If she’s trying to calm down, it’s not working.

 

“I was just grabbing coffee… is… do you want any…?”

 

…aaaaaaand she’s staring at her chest again. She coughs. “Absolutely. Coffee me up.”

 

Coffee me up. She sits down again with a bit of a thump. COFFEE ME UP. YEAH SURE JUST COFFEE ME RIGHT THE FUCK UP.

 

Leslie messes around with things on the counter behind her, then disappears back down the hallway she came from. When she comes back, she is—thank god—wearing a t-shirt. She wonders for a moment why she didn't just run back to her room and put one on before starting the coffee.

 

“Sorry about that,” she half-laughs, running a hand through her hair again. “I wasn’t expecting—are you here to meet with April or something?”

 

“Oh!” Ohhhh. “Oh, she didn’t tell you! Yeah.” She twists around in her chair, watching Leslie grab coffee mugs from the cupboard. Fuck everything, now she can’t help but notice the planes of her back under her shirt, the shape of her waist as she reaches up to close the cupboard door. God if she wanted to seduce her she’d have an embarrassingly easy time of it.

 

“You're finally starting on the musical planning,” says Leslie, stirring sugar into their coffees, Leslie adding some sort of sugary creamer as well to hers.

 

“I am!”

 

“Any disasters yet?” smiles Leslie over her shoulder.

 

“We haven't even started yet, so maybe that's a disaster.” Ann chuckles. “April went to pick up Andy from his brothers place. I’m here early. We’re all going over like, song ideas, what's cool and fun and easily enjoyable for all.”

 

“Sounds fun,” replies Leslie enthusiastically.

 

She turns around and hands Ann her coffee, then sits down across from her. Ann takes a careful sip. It’s delicious. “Yeah, Andy's kind of excited. Says our friendship is about to be truly tested with my knowledge of music," She pauses, then adds, "They'll be here in like fifteen or something. Sorry to just like… lurk unannounced in your house.”

 

“No problem. Who’s looking after the shop?”

 

“Opening late today. We decided trying to plan and work probably wasn't a good idea.”

 

“Mm, yeah.”

 

They fall into a lull. Ann sips her coffee. It’s just how she likes it, she realizes: sugar, no milk or cream. She can’t remember telling Leslie how she takes her coffee, even after Leslie had brought her coffee that one time.

 

“Hey, wanted to ask,” Leslie speaks up after a minute or two, “did you ever get in touch with that friend of April's?”

 

Ann ponders how to reply. “We got in touch, yeah. I had dinner with him a few nights ago.”

 

“Oh," she adds quickly, "Yeah? How was it?”

 

“He’s, uh… I mean. I don’t think he’s my type.”

 

'I bet' Leslie thinks, grinning, her eyes sparkling. “Was he short? Not that good looking? Rude?”

 

“No!” Ann laughs. “He looks fine, that wasn’t—I don’t know, we just didn’t click. I’m not sure we’ve got loads in common.”

 

“Is that your way of saying he was a horrible date?”

 

“Shut up!” Leslie’s grin widens. “He was a perfectly lovely date! He brought me flowers! Which, you know, but still!”

 

“What do you mean you know?! Flowers are nice!”

 

“I don’t know!” She takes a long drink to hide her blushing. “I’m not that impressed by flowers, I think they’re too easy.”

 

Leslie whistles, leaning back in her chair. “Wow. High standards.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

She spins her coffee mug around in lazy circles on the table before her. “So what does someone get to impress you?” Leslie has an idea already, but asks anyway.

 

Ann feels the blush settle deeper into her cheeks. The conversation has suddenly gotten a little too close. She doesn’t know how to answer—she can’t just say oh well Mark was never really much for that sort of thing and I’ve been on about three dates since him, so.

 

The first thing that catches her eye as she glances around the unfamiliar house is a bookshelf. Duh, of course. “Books,” she says immediately.

 

Leslie raises her eyebrows, almost knowingly but trying to hide it. “Books?”

 

“Uh. Yeah. I mean not just any book, something really good.”

 

“Didn’t know you liked to read.” Leslie says plainly and Ann rolls her eyes.

 

The way Leslie’s looking at her though is making her feel weightless. In a disconcerting, uncomfortable way. She fiddles with her coffee mug. “Yeah, I do. I guess I don’t really get loads of time for it lately. Selling books takes up so much of my time to read books.”

 

“What sort of things do you like to read?” Leslie thinks she may not know that for sure. She's excited to find out what Ann reads in her free time, not the things she catches her randomly flipping through at the shop.

 

She laughs. “You’re going to tease me for having high standards again.”

 

“Probably,” she smiles.

 

“Um.” She clears her throat. “I like poetry? A lot of different kinds. And Shakespeare. I mean, you probably knew that considering my interest in theater in college. But I enjoy reading them on my own time. Classics as well, of course."

 

“Pride & Prejudice?”

 

She glances up. “Hmm?”

 

“Have you read Pride & Prejudice?” Leslie looks thoughtful. It's the first one she could think of, and one of the few that truly matter anyway.

 

“…right, see, this is embarrassing, because... I haven't, actually.”

 

“Ann, NO!”

 

“No wait, I read it in school!” She points at her accusingly. “I read it in school and wrote a paper on it! And then I just… forgot most of it. Haven't picked it up since.”

 

“NO, Ann!”

 

“It’s on my list now, promise!”

 

Leslie scowls. “I’m insulted, on behalf of humanity.”

 

The caffeine is making her jittery. She drinks more. Leslie doesn’t seem to have touched hers much, which is probably good, since she’s already so full of energy. She’s folded her arms now and is staring at her with judgment and disapproval.

 

Ann nearly wonders when April and Andy will get here, but finds she doesn’t care.

 

“So, writing and editing,” She taps her hands on the tabletop. “How’d that happen then?”

 

“Well, I wanted to be a novelist, or hold some kind of public office, thought about law school, too...” Leslie trails off, distracted for a moment, the list of things no doubt much longer.

 

"But anyway. My senior thesis got a lot of attention, it was on how few women there are in powerful positions in the state of Indiana and all the ways that could easily be changed. Whether it was being the manager of a store, or political figure, anything at all, doesn't matter, as long as women were given equal chances for those positions and felt empowered by what they were doing."

 

Ann's mesmerized. Leslie's passionate, Leslie has a good heart and she can't think of a better person working so hard for other women to have the opportunities she has.

 

"Anyhow, after encouragement from my mother and a professor I still am in contact with, I pitched it to a local magazine. They loved it, asked me to intertern for the summer after college to write pieces. Worked my way up, came up with the idea for my own one day, and here I am now.”

 

Leslie's got a proud smile on her face. Ann thinks she absolutely should. “Which do you like more, writing or editing?”

 

Leslie's mouth makes an "oh" shape, “That's a great question. Well, I suppose writing. Editing just, never interested me for my own work, but it's fun working on other people's writing, working with them on their pieces and helping them get their work to where I know they can get it.”

 

“You should show me something sometime. What you’re writing.”

 

Leslie looks at her, her lips parted as if in deep thought, and after a moment replies, “Yeah, maybe I will. Actually, I'm working on a big project right now.”

 

“What’s it about?”

 

Leslie takes a deep breath that turns into a laugh, staring into her coffee. “Not telling yet, but I will definitely fill you in when I feel it's ready to be seen by someone else's eyes.”

 

Ann grins, "I look forward to it. I know it'll be fantastic."

 

She glances up at her. “You think so?”

 

“Yeah, it—”

 

At that moment there’s a bustle of keys and footsteps at the front door, and a moment later April and Andy are pouring into the entryway. Andy appears to be burdened with everything April didn’t want to carry, which is everything. He struggles into the living room and dumps an armful of binders, books, and plastic flower samples onto the couch, picking back up a different notebook though and making his way into the kitchen.

 

“Official musical business,” April snaps at Leslie. “Get out.”

 

“April!” Ann exclaims.

 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Leslie gets up and pats April on the shoulder. “I sense she’s had another April VS The Wedding of The Century meltdown."

 

She moves around the table and pats Ann’s shoulder too. “See you on Monday, Perkins.”

 

“See you,” she replies, somewhat at a loss.

 

Leslie disappears before she can think of anything else to say. “Sorry we’re a few minutes late,” Andy is apologizing, giving April a sidelong glance, “we ran into some complications—”

 

“We nearly ran into a bus.”

 

“You nearly caused me to run into a bus."

 

“Yes, because I thought of more wedding details. Why are we doing this again anyway? Can't we just have a party and be done?”

 

Andy looks at Ann helplessly.

 

Right.

 

“Want to talk about music?” she interrupts brightly.

 

Off they go, then.

 

//\\\

 

  
Leslie stays in her room for the next hour or so, listening to music but keeping one headphone out so that she can overhear the conversation down the hall. Every so often she hears voices starting to raise and some sort of storm threatening to burst out, and then Ann’s voice speaks up and seems to calm things down. She smiles whenever this happens. She has no idea how on earth Ann’s able to stay patient with the two wonderfully fumbling goofballs.

 

She comes back out into the living room after Ann and Andy have left and only April remains, looking prepared to tear her own hair out.

 

“Survive, did we?”

 

“Not talking about it.”

 

Leslie grins and grabs herself some cereal. She realizes she never ate anything, and what's better than sugary cereal. Nearly anything else, probably. It's quiet during the time it takes Leslie to pour cereal and milk into a bowl. When Leslie turns around, she frowns at the look April's giving her.

 

“You’re giving me an April Look.”

 

“I might be.”

 

“What have I done to deserve an April Look?”

 

She can still feel April watching her as she turns back to grab a spoon. It’s incredibly unnerving, and she feels a bit like she’s being considered by a bird of prey as she sits down at the table.

 

“Ann said you’re going to let her read the Big Secret Thing you're working on.”

 

Leslie shrugs. “I might," she takes a bite of her cereal, adding around the mouthful, "So?"

 

“You haven’t told me what you're working on. You won’t even tell your boyfriend.”

 

“Well!” If she doesn’t look at her, maybe it will stop. “I’m revising it now, maybe I feel more comfortable with it.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

April’s hmm sounds more significant than Leslie would like. She finishes the rest of her cereal in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ann's birthday comes up in this chapter, and it says on the Parks wiki her birthday is in July but for this fic I'm doing it a little earlier than that, so that's my main note for this update.
> 
> I had a good rhythm of weekly updates, sorry I lost it... Anyway, hope you guys are enjoying.

//\\\

 

This needs to stop, Ann tells herself, and for once she's not thinking about Leslie.

 

It's been a few weeks now since her first meeting with April and Andy, and the bride to be has finally settled—she thinks—on a playlist that seems to satisfy both her and Andy's tastes. With the wedding so soon there's very little time to tweak much of their planning for a lot of things, anyway. She's not only coordinating playlists for the ceremony itself but also for the reception, the rehearsal dinner, and April's bachelorette party.

 

"Why are they even getting married?" she wonders aloud one morning as Leslie hands her a coffee.

 

"Aww, come on, that's a bit harsh."

 

"Okay, I mean, why the big ceremony? It's so not April's style."

 

Leslie picks a dangling leaf off of her jacket and flicks it at her. "I think she just wants to make Andy happy, and Andy seems like the rare man who wants a big ceremony with all of his friends and family there."

 

Ann sighs, of course she knew that about Andy. He used to tell her he'd find the right one and settle down, nice wedding and everything.

 

"They're an interesting match, I will say," Leslie continues, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter, "but I think they manage to compliment each other that way."

 

She's taken to sitting on the counter a lot lately. Ann's taken to shoving her off. This time, though, she doesn't, and she stays for a long time, telling her horror stories about a bad intern they just had at work and how April was plotting to get rid of the person for her.

 

In the middle of Leslie's story telling, the shop phone rings. When Ann answers it (biting her lip to keep from giggling any more), she finds herself speaking to the sound guy, Tom, who's supposed to be providing the sound system and speakers. Oh god. "Might be a while," she mouths to Leslie.

She nods, but seems content to wait, perched on the counter with her coffee in her hands, swinging her legs lazily. As Ann embarks on a heated discussion about a surround sound set up, she sees Leslie grab her cell phone from behind the register and start to play with it.

 

"—uh, whoa, just a moment, could you hang on?" she interrupts Tom, holding one of her hands over the receiver. "Leslie, put that down."

 

"I'm bored," she whispers back.

 

"Then go... do something else."

 

She holds up her hands. "I won't look at anything secret!"

 

Ann takes a few seconds to mentally scroll through everything on her phone. There can't really be anything on it more incriminating than a few embarrassing game apps. "Fine," she mutters, turning her attention back to Tom.

 

Leslie finishes her coffee and seems to get bored of her phone after a few minutes. She spends the rest of Ann's call wandering around the shopfront, picking up different books and flipping through them. By the time she hangs up, she's actually pacing.

 

"You know, I wouldn't be offended if you just went home," Ann says dryly, setting the phone down. "You don't have to like, hang around for no reason."

 

Leslie walks back up to the counter and shrugs her hands into her pockets. "What are we doing for your birthday?"

 

"Oh." Something thuds in her chest and she feels that familiar heat rising under her skin. She takes a deep breath. "How did—?"

 

"It was in your phone."

 

"You said you wouldn't look at stuff!"

 

"I can't believe you have Candy Crush on your phone."

 

"OUT," she demands, pointing at the door.

 

Leslie fucking giggles. Then she leans on the countertop. Ann is reminded, suddenly and vividly, of the first day they met. "So? What's the plan, then? Crazy night out?"

 

"It's two Fridays from now," she reminds her.

 

"So?"

 

"Two Saturdays from now is April's bachelorette party. I'm busy."

 

"You're not saying you're going to spend your birthday working," replies Leslie incredulously.

 

"I have to!" Ann smacks her gently with the CD she's left or forgotten on the counter. "The wedding's in three weeks! I have stuff to do!"

 

"But it's your birthday!"

 

She smacks her again until she finally takes the CD. "I don't usually do tons of stuff for my birthday. It's not a big deal."

 

"It should be."

 

Ann grins. "I will accept lavish gifts, then."

 

"We should bring you a cake," Leslie says, as though she's just come up with the most ingenious plan ever. "In the shop. We should bring you a cake and get really, really drunk."

 

Oh god that sounds fun. But—"I don't know… All the bachelorette stuff will end up looking like drunk people put it together."

 

"Ann, is anybody going to be sober that night?"

 

She makes a good point, she realizes. "Hmm."

 

"Say yes." Is she actually BOUNCING? "We can help you finish early and have time to go out after. Say yes!"

 

"Yes! Okay! Fine!" she laughs.

 

Leslie leans across the counter and plants a kiss on her cheek, and she stops breathing. "Brilliant. I'll start planning."

 

"Right," she manages.

 

She leaves. Bounds off, actually. Good for her, she's in a good mood. She wishes she could say the same for herself as she stands there, frozen in place, her cheek burning. She kissed her. Not that it counts, really, but still. She kissed her.

 

It wasn't an anything kiss, she thinks dully, finally turning around and getting back to work.

 

//\\\

 

"You just... have a crush on her, right?" asks Andy that afternoon.

 

Ann freezes for a moment, but she has to admit, there's no point in being coy with Andy. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean," he says, dragging another box of albums over to their desk in the back room, both of them sorting together, "that you're not, like, in love with her."

 

She shrugs and focuses very hard on putting price tags on the pile she's already alphabetized. "I don't know."

 

Andy pulls his chair up next to hers. "You've only known her for like… four months, or something."

 

"Really?!"

 

"… yes?"

 

He's right, she realizes after she goes over the months in her head. "Huh. Feels like longer, I guess."

 

"Ann," says Andy gently, in a way that makes her pause and look at him. He looks worried.

 

"What?" she snaps with more force than she means to.

 

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck in frustration. "I don't know. Be careful?"

 

The desire to jab him in the arm with the label maker is high. "Andyyyyyy. Are you giving me the don't let your heart get broken speech?"

 

"You're annoying when you've got a broken heart," he mutters, but Ann's already got her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his shoulder. His sweatshirt is scratchy against her skin. When he pats her clumsily on the back, she feels tears spring to her eyes. Absurd, stupid tears. Ridiculous tears. She squeezes him harder and tries to think of something to say that she'll be able to get out around the unexpected lump in her throat.

 

Nothing presents itself. Andy doesn't seem to mind. He rubs her shoulders and doesn't say anything for a minute or so.

 

Eventually Ann clears her throat, running the label maker over the back of his sweatshirt, "You've got price tags on you now," she mumbles, sitting back and straightening her blouse.

 

"God damn you to hell," replies Andy affectionately.

 

They work side by side in silence for a little while, both moving to the music section of the shop, putting the now sorted and tagged albums in their right places before Andy's voice breaks the silence. "You know I'm not saying she's a bad person—"

 

"She's not a bad person." She accidentally all about shouts. "She's a great person. She's amazing."

 

"Well, yeah, but—"

 

"She's like super generous and thoughtful and stuff. And she never says a bad word about anyone."

 

"Yes, I know!" Andy sounds annoyed. "I just mean that... I don't know, what if she's leading you on a bit? Whether she means to or not."

 

She refuses to meet his eyes, even though she can feel him trying to get her to. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not in love with her, then."

 

//\\\

 

On her birthday, the weather's unusually hot for the end of May, and the shop feels stuffy and cramped. Ann almost regrets saving the bachelorette work for today as she stares out the windows at people walking past in the sunlight, probably heading back to their air-conditioned homes. (The shop's central air has always been a fickle beast on the best of days.) She finds herself wiping sweat off her face and hoping Leslie doesn't show up with her birthday "surprise" until the evening, when it's cooled down and she looks less like she's dying.

 

Finally, at four, she's finished the tracklist and emailed it to Tom, who's actually a club owner and owns a record label and has actually become her odd partner in crime in arranging all of this because god help her, she knows nothing about sound systems and what not, thinking it'd just be an iPod set up to a speaker system. Tom groaned heavily at that comment when they had coffee a couple days ago. Andy is typing away madly on his laptop in the corner of the workroom when she walks in to lie down on the floor for a bit.

 

"Drinks tonight?" he calls over without looking up.

 

Ann pulls her phone out of her pocket as she stretches out on the floor. "No, actually, I think Leslie was going to come over sometime and like—"

 

Oh. Two texts from her. She stops mid-sentence and scrolls through them. They're from earlier that afternoon; she must not have heard.

 

 **Really sorry Ann, Ben has declared impromptu date night.** **Can't make boozy cake bash today.  
** **Very important for busy girlfriend to spend time with busy boyfriend.**

 

Oh.

 

So that's… just it.

 

The second text reads, **Also happy birthday! xo**

 

She lies still and lets the disappointment wash over her like a wave.

 

"…and like?" prompts Andy after a minute.

 

"Oh." Ann blinks. "Nothing. Never mind, change of plans."

 

Andy glances over his shoulder. "So… drinks tonight."

 

"No." She swallows thickly. Good thing I'm not in love with her then. "I'm going home, I'm going to bed."

 

"You can't go to bed on your birthday," protests Andy incredulously after her as she walks out of the room. "It's your birthday!"

 

She ignores him. Her head pounds as she heads out the front door and around the corner to the back parking lot and gets in her car and just drives home. She has a boyfriend, she tells herself viciously, and Leslie's not Mark. She's not going to leave her boyfriend for some other person she's known for a few months. Leslie loves Ben. She's not Mark, or any other guy she ever dated. She's not a bad person—she's a great person, that's what she told Andy, she's an amazing person. She knows her well enough for that. Four months isn't long but it's fucking long enough to figure that out.

 

And even if it isn't, she reminds herself, reaching her front door and letting herself in without blinking back any of her tears—if it isn't, it still doesn't matter, because that makes her the other woman, that makes her one of Mark's models, or random women at bars, happy to tear him away from someone who didn't deserve it. Ben doesn't deserve it. Not that she's met Ben. Or knows much else about him. But anyone Leslie's in love with… he has to be amazing, doesn't he?

 

Ann sits down on the couch. Her limbs feel heavy and useless. She's pretty sure, she realizes belatedly, that where her left foot is pressed into the carpet is the same spot where Leslie leaned her back against the cushion all those weeks ago, and somewhere around her right knee is where she pressed her face into her shoulder, and she didn't pull away.

 

She should have, she thinks bitterly, before standing up and throwing her phone onto the couch. She leaves it there for the rest of the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all, so sorry for the delay. I've used this many times already, but life is super crazy. lots of work, lots of moving around and back and forth, it's been exhausting. but here's a new chapter!
> 
> it's the big day, lots of fun and angst, I know that's your favorite. I'll do my best to post the next chapter soon, maybe in the next couple days as a sorry for being gone so long. anyway, hope you enjoy!

//\\\

 

The wedding is the first Saturday in July.

 

It's a windy day and Ann nearly loses the sheet of paper with the instructions on where to park and where to go given to the wedding staff, because she's staff as well as a guest (Andy wanted to give her a cool badge, Ann told him he's a loser) as she carries a box of cables to the van sitting in her driveway. She clutches at the paper just in time before a gust of wind takes it away.

 

She almost wishes she'd missed. Then she wouldn't be able to find the place and she wouldn't have to go. That's exactly what would happen and nothing else. She could run back home and curl up on the sofa with some tea.

 

But she scolds herself, because this is Andy's big day, he needs her there. _Quit being so pathetic, Perkins_.

 

Tom is waiting in the driver's seat. "Thrilled and brimming with enthusiasm?" he asks as she clicks her seat belt into place.

 

"Shut up." Ann hands him the slightly crumpled paper without looking at him. She's not in the mood for Tom's banter today. There's a tense, sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. She's been pretending to herself that it's because she skipped breakfast this morning, and not because she knows she's about to go and meet Leslie's boyfriend.

 

A boyfriend she's learned has made the wedding cake, because apparently nerdy 90's music loving campaign managers can bake really well, too. Whatever. At least it saved Andy the money.

 

Ann is not going to touch any cake tonight. She keeps telling herself she's being ridiculous, get it together, have fun. This is about Andy, and April. And of course there's the tiny detail of April making her a bridesmaid because she feels they've become good enough friends. Nicest compliment from April she has ever gotten, probably. It isn't Ann's thing, and maybe that's adding to her anxiety as well. She was content with just sitting in the rows of people. Now she'll be up there, and eyes will be on her. Eyes that make her heart flutter and somehow ache at the same time.

 

"This would be the place," says Tom after a while, and Ann sits up, blinking back to attention as the van pulls up to a stop. "Get your game face on, Perkins."

 

She tries to get her game face on.

 

Tom blanches. "No. No. Take it off."

 

"Fuck you," she hisses, getting out of the van.

 

"Hey!" she hears, and when she looks over her shoulder, her heart sinks.

 

"You're here early too," she finds herself saying. Wow, is she really, Ann? She probably had no idea.

 

It's not her fault she can't think straight. She's never seen Leslie like this before, wearing a dress, a dark purple dress that hugs her figure in all the right ways. Hair done up, make up elegant. She looks incredible. Ann smooths the front of her dress self-consciously as she approaches.

 

Leslie nods at her. "You look beautiful."

 

"Shut up," she mutters, feeling her cheeks flush. "You look weird."

 

"You do too," Leslie replies. She walks around the van to open the back, feeling Leslie's eyes on her the whole way.

 

"Give us a hand?" asks Tom from the other side of the van.

 

"Oh, sorry, I'm helping Ben with unloading the cake and what not."

 

Ann's head snaps up. And there he is, she thinks dully as a slightly tall, skinny, big haired man walks across the parking lot to them, carrying a box of what appears to be cake cutters and utensils. He's got a nice face, and a nice smile. Ann's first thought is she's not sure that she's ever met anyone before whose hair bounced as much as his does.

 

"Hi!" he smiles as she reaches them, and Leslie's arm seems to go instinctively around his waist. "These are your music people, right?"

 

"Uh, well, yeah, this is Ann." Leslie gestures weakly at her. "That's Tom, he actually doesn't work there. Andy's inside, obviously."

 

"Hello," calls Tom from within.

 

Ann swallows and extends her hand for a second before she realizes Ben can't shake it. She pulls it back and brushes the side of her dress again without thinking. "Hi. Nice to—I've heard a lot about you."

 

Ben is looking her up and down. "You too." The smile on his face has become a little fixed, or maybe Ann's imagining it. "Your, uh… your collection of music is pretty impressive. Leslie can't seem to stay away…"

 

"Yeah she's one of our best customers…"

 

Ann glanced helplessly at Leslie, but she's apparently absorbed in watching Tom unloading boxes of cables and speakers from the back of the van. She clears her throat. Stay professional, she tells herself. "Do you want help taking anything inside?"

 

"No, I think we're fine." Ben nudges Leslie. "We should get—"

 

"Right, yeah." She drops her arm from his waist and lets him head off towards the church's front door.

 

"He's nice," offers Ann, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably.

 

Leslie's seems to be lost in thought for a moment before speaking up. "You should sit with us," she says, avoiding her eyes, "After the ceremony, at the... the other thing."

 

"Oh!" She can't think of anything she'd hate more. "You should probably—"

 

"Coming?" Ben has paused a few feet away and is looking at Leslie.

 

"Yep."

 

She gives Ann a look, and then follows him inside.

 

 

//\\\

 

 

In the end, the wedding is beautiful. April is truly radiant, Andy is radiant, and for the few seconds while the bride and groom are kissing, surrounded by applause, Ann forgets everything that could possibly ever be bad in the world. She watched the look on Andy's face as he said his vows, the love in his eyes for the woman in front of him. 

 

And when it all starts to die down and people move on to the reception, the world comes back to her. At least she hasn't had to make conversation with Ben, or Leslie, due to her bridesmaid duties. She had wondered briefly how Leslie didn't end up being one and she did, thinking April was closer to her and liked her more, but she never asked. She had noticed Ben trying to inconspicuously keep his eyes on her when people were shuffling in and mingling before the ceremony. He's not inconspicuous to Ann. More than once now Ann has noticed him glancing over, like he's checking to see that she isn't coming to talk to Leslie, or the both of them.

 

_I'm not trying to take her away from you_ , she wants to scream at him. _She's yours. I'm very fucking painfully aware of that. Don't look at me_. Maybe she's just paranoid and making the whole thing up. Leslie never seemed to notice. In fact she's barely spoken to Ann, not since the parking lot. Barely even looked at her.

 

She can't really blame her, though, she supposes, when she has Ben to look at.

 

//\\\

 

Ben finds her as soon as they're let out of the main hall, having been separated in the large group of people.

 

He places his hand on her waist and kisses the top of her head. "You wanna do pictures?"

 

Leslie looks up at him and bites her lip, then glances to the hall door, where Ann, Tom and a couple of Andy's family members are talking as they make their way out. "I was going to—"

 

Ben follows her glance.

 

"We'll go to the reception just after, it won't be more than a half hour."

 

She wants to say no, but the way he's looking at her, face almost puppy dog like and the hand resting against her waist tells her she'd better not.

 

"Yeah, all right." She wraps an arm around his waist, squeezing him back. "Hurry up, though, I want to dance."

 

//\\\

 

They don't really hurry. Pictures are a little slow, and on their way out Ben ran into an old coworker from his accounting days, and of course had to introduce Leslie to him. By the time alls said and done, they get to the reception an hour after everyone else, (Leslie wonders briefly why they didn't just do it at the church, but I guess April's coworkers at the animal shelter had something set up as a surprise at a nice restaurant, so how could you say no to that? And Leslie for some strange reason thinks Ann may not still be there.)

 

To her surprise and relief, however, Ann's sitting at a table close to the door as soon as they walk in. She's taken off the light jacket that she was wearing over her dress earlier, and her shoulders are bare. Candlelight flickers on her skin. Leslie swallows, and for a moment she forgets that anyone else is there.

 

"She's very pretty, isn't she," murmurs Ben next to her.

 

She looks up at him quickly. "Oh. Yeah, she's…"

 

Ann's turned and noticed her now, and she's giving her a small smile, a glass of champagne raised in her hand.

 

"Come on," says Leslie suddenly, taking Ben's hand. "Let's go dance, and drink."

 

They walk past the table. Leslie gives Ann a little wave, but that's all she has time for before Ben pulls her away to the dance floor.

 

//\\\

 

By ten o'clock, Ann's head hurts. The music is too loud, and there are too many people, and she's probably had too much champagne and not enough to eat, and Leslie—Leslie has ignored her since she got here. She's glimpsed at her dancing with Ben a few times, though she tries not to look. Now she's not sure where she's got to.

 

She wants to leave, but she should stay in case anyone needs help to take down all the decorations, but right now she actually doesn't give a shit. She's slipped her feet back into her heels and is looking up taxi services on her phone, pretty sure Tom's not gonna be a reliable ride home since he's been drinking all night, or anyone else for that matter. That's when Leslie sits down next to her.

 

"Hey." She looks flushed. "Barely seen you. You look bored."

 

Ann doesn't meet her eyes. "Just tired."

 

Leslie says nothing.

 

"Where's Ben?" Ann asks after a minute, desperate to fill the silence.

 

Leslie runs a hand through her hair. "He took off. Long day, plus he's got a big day tomorrow."

 

"You didn't go with him?"

 

"No, I—" Her eyes are very bright, she thinks, and then she looks away again, cursing internally. "I wanted to stay."

 

The look she's giving her could bore holes through her, she can feel it, but she swallows the tightness in her throat. "I'm probably gonna get going," she says, standing up and reaching for her bag.

 

"No, wait—" Leslie jumps to her feet. She makes to reach out for her arm, then stops and drops her arms to her side.

 

Ann realizes she's gripping her phone so tightly that she could probably smash it if she wanted to. She relaxes her hand and shoves the phone into her bag. "What?"

 

Leslie lets out a breath of air, then asks, "Dance with me?"

 

The words pierce through her headache and the haze of music and champagne, and she thinks for a split second that she misheard her, but she's holding out a hand now, awkward and unsteady, and she doesn't know whether her heart leaps or sinks. "It's a slow song," she blurts out, to buy time.

 

"We can slow dance," Leslie replies as though it's obvious.

 

Ann doesn't know what else to do. In the background she hears The Carpenters crooning, (Andy's idea, he insisted, saying you have to have some slow songs, for some reason looking directly at Ann when he said this. Bastard.) Leslie's staring at her, and she hates The Carpenters, hates Andy, and she hates Leslie, but what else can she do? She slings the bag off of her shoulders and back onto the floor, and she takes her hand, the breath stuttering in her lungs. Her palm is as sweaty as hers must be. _Fuck_ , she thinks dizzily.

 

Leslie leads her the few steps to the dance floor, where they stop, standing a few feet apart. Ann blinks rapidly, ignoring the music. She feels Leslie's free hand press against the small of her back through her dress, and she holds her other hand up to her heart. The look in her eyes… She swallows, and she knows she's about to say something.

 

_I can't do this anymore_ shoots through her suddenly like lightning.

 

"Ann…"

 

"I have to go." She steps back and drops her hand. She's shaking. "Sorry."

 

"Ann—what—"

 

"I have to go." The music blares harshly in her ears as she walks quickly back to the table and grabs her bag. God, her eyes are stinging, it's not fair, and she keeps her face turned away from Leslie as she follows her because she's not going to be able to hold the tears back this time. This is it. She's done. She's just fucking done.

 

"Ann!" she hears her call after her, but she hurries down the hall, past people mingling, their eyes no doubt now on the crazy woman fleeing, and out into the hot summer night.

 

//\\\

 

She's gone by the time Leslie reaches the front door. Maybe her cab showed up, or maybe she just walked off.

 

Leslie slumps against the doorway, eyes stinging, and thinks, _I can't do this anymore_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, it's slowly coming together and wrapping up... missing this story already as I get closer to finishing it. But enjoy, or don't, you know, still lots of angst, but also things to smile about.
> 
> I'll try to be quick with the next chapter, no promises though because it's my birthday this week and I'll be in NYC with my family celebrating all weekend, but I'll try.
> 
> P.S.  
> Go give Coexist - Leo Islo & Tontario a listen, made me think about Ann/Leslie a lot, + it's a nice chill listen.

 

//\\\

 

_Ann is dancing with her. Her arms are round her waist, and her hands are linked at the back of her neck, and Ann's looking at her like she's new and exciting, like she's saying the truest thing she's ever heard even though her lips aren't moving at all. And she's pretty sure she's just told her she's been wanting to kiss her._

 

_"I hoped you would," Ann whispers, and when she leans in to kiss her, she threads her fingers into her hair and doesn't let her go._

 

Leslie wakes up in her own bed. She's not sure how she got there, after the amount of drinking she did last night after Ann disappeared, but she has a feeling she's been here for a while. And she's alone, Ben no doubt already left his own place to head off to work, on a Sunday no doubt (government work never ends, babe, he had said,) but she isn't too focused on that right now.

 

Ann.

 

She drags herself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up. Fuck, when did she fall in love with her. Ages ago, obviously, but—she still sees her walking away from her when she closes her eyes, and she sees Ben doing the same thing, just ten minutes earlier, and she knows, heavy in her heart, which moment took hold of her insides and twisted, and which moment made her breathe a sigh of relief.

 

She should go to Ben first—she should, and wants to, but the fact that he's at work stops her. And she wants to go to Ann, and she's fighting every part of her that's telling her just go. What she ends up doing is texting April to please meet her at this coffee shop they've gone to a few times when they want to escape the usual crowds to brainstorm. She just needs to hear herself saying the words out loud, to anyone, soon, before she loses her nerve. 

 

//\\\

 

April's sitting on the floor of Ann and Andy's living room, helping him go through their various wedding gifts when she gets Leslie's text. Blinking at her phone, she types out a quick reply.

 

**Why, what's going on?**

 

Leslie's next text comes alarmingly quickly.

 

**I'm going to break up with him. I'm going to tell her.**

 

This causes April to promptly stop what she's doing and look over at Andy.

 

"Leslie needs me. She's gonna end things with Ben."

 

Andy's head snaps up at that, letting out a breathy 'fuck.'

 

"I know," April says quietly, then adding, "I should probably go."

 

Andy nods vigorously. "Go, I've got this covered."

 

April leans over, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and murmuring a thank you, before standing and grabbing her purse and keys from the couch. Just before she leaves, she turns back to Andy, who's already looking at her. She bites her lip, letting out a sigh.

 

"Don't tell Ann anything. Not yet. I... don't want... I don't want her to be let down, or get her hopes up if this doesn't go in the direction we've probably all been hoping for."

 

Andy smiles, and it's so wide, and it's so filled with love. He stands, coming over and stopping in front of April, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you for caring about her."

 

April scoffs quietly, but it's all show. "She's only sort of okay, plus you'd be sad if she were sad and that's annoying."

 

Andy laughs, shooing her out the door, wishing her good luck in her surprising role of the groups matchmaker.

 

//\\\

 

Leslie's already at the coffee shop, sitting at a table in the back corner of the building and tapping her foot nervously. April had told her she was on her way, and she's almost afraid she was joking because how long does it really take to get here? Before she can spiral any further, April finally steps through the door, spotting her quickly and making her way over.

 

April must notice her current state quickly, because she gives her a funny look. "How much caffeine have you had already?"

 

"Not a lot," Leslie blurts out, almost spastically, and April raises her eyebrows before she sighs, adding, "I'm nervous."

 

April nods, taking the seat opposite Leslie and crossing her arms over her chest. "What happened?"

 

Leslie avoids her question. "How are you functioning so well? It was your night last night, you should be exhausted, you and Andy had a pretty fun night I'm sure. No, wait! Not like that, I mean because you got married."

 

April shoots her a pointed glare that stops the rambling mess. "Leslie."

 

Leslie sighs, her shoulders slumping. It's now or never. "I... asked her to dance last night. I was going to tell her then, she must have known, because she left." Leslie swallows, and her own nervousness and how unsure she is alarming even herself.

 

"I had a dream, we were dancing, but things were obviously different. I was about to kiss her, then I woke up. I knew. I knew, April. I mean, I guess I've known for a while, I can't keep doing this. It's unfair to Ben, it's unfair to Ann, I just..." Leslie trails off, taking a deep, shaky breath.

 

April's quiet for a long time, and the silence is only adding to the nerves. Eventually, she unfolds her arms and rests them against the table, leaning over the table a bit.

 

"I was wondering how long it would be until you snapped." That was the last thing Leslie expected her to say, and she stutters over her words for a second before she manages, "How did you know?" and April actually smiles. None of this is good, not at all.

 

"Come on, Leslie. All the time you spent there? The way you looked at her. I've never seen you like that, and I mean never. Not even with Ben, and that's saying a lot." Leslie's eyes drop to her fidgeting hands, and April goes on.

 

"I tried setting her up with Katherine. It was a hunch, you know, the woman thing. But that backfired."

 

Leslie lets out a small chuckle, "Yeah, that was pretty bad."

 

April shrugs, looking at Leslie seriously, attempting to get back on track. "What're you gonna tell Ben?"

 

Leslie leans back in her chair, looking away for a moment and swallowing the lump in her throat. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt him, but I'll just end up hurting him more in the long run if I keep this up."

 

April looks at her thoughtfully, then asks, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

 

It only takes her a few seconds to respond. "I thought about Ben and Ann walking away from me after this goes down, one made me sick, made my heart actually ache. The other gave me a sense of relief."

 

April only stares at her. "You're in love with her."

 

Leslie doesn't answer, only looks back down at her hands and tries to ignore the pounding of her heart and head. She hears April's next words loud and clear, though.

 

"I think you know what you need to do," and she doesn't miss the added, "I'll be here, whatever happens, because I actually care about what happens to you. Don't tell anyone, though."

 

//\\\

 

It's nearly three in the afternoon when Leslie gets a text from Ben, saying he's leaving early and he'll swing by, 'maybe we can do dinner out tonight?' was the end of the text, and Leslie feels sick to her stomach once again. Her mind is set, but it doesn't make this any easier.

 

She's hiding in her office when she hears the front door opening and closing maybe a half hour later, footsteps making their way through the house. Ben pokes his head into the office.

 

"Hey," He says sweetly. Leslie takes a deep breath, but before she can attempt to say anything, he continues, "Any ideas on dinner? I was thinking maybe that new place downtown, or we cou—"

 

"Ben, we... we need to talk."

 

He stops mid sentence, looks confused for a moment before nodding his head, setting his stuff down and bringing one of the kitchen table chairs into the room, sitting down.

 

"What's up?"

 

Leslie still hasn't turned around, thinking maybe if she doesn't have to look at him this won't suck as much. Maybe he won't hate her, maybe he'll understand, he's always been that way. But would he understand this? Doubt, so much doubt and it's driving her crazy even when she thinks she's sure. His voice snaps her back to attention and she realizes she hasn't said anything yet.

 

"Leslie, are you okay?"

 

She sighs, finally turning her chair around and glancing over at him. "Yup, yeah. Well... no, not really."

 

"Is it work?" He asks. She shakes her head.

 

"We need to... break up. You and me." She gestures between, like he doesn't already know who 'you and me' is. He stays still, and quiet for a long time, at least that's how it feels. She can see the wheels turning in his head, the questions he wants to ask before his lips purse and he looks at her, but there isn't much there for her to read.

 

"Is this about her?" Comes out of his mouth, and Leslie freezes. He doesn't give her a chance to say it herself, instead getting all he needed from her stillness and silence, and he nods his head.

 

"I had a feeling something was going on between you two."

 

Leslie snaps herself out of whatever funk she's in, shaking her head. "No, Ben, it's not like that, we didn't..."

 

"No, I know. You wouldn't do that. But you grew close... you like each other."

 

He seems calmer than she does, and that's freaking her out more. She nods her head weakly, and she swore she wouldn't cry but she can feel it in her throat, the corners of her eyes stinging, but he pushes through.

 

"I'm not mad... I mean, I am, and I'm not. I don't know." He sighs, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair, making it stick up just a bit more than it normally does.

 

After another brief moment of silence, Leslie finally finds her voice.

 

"I'm... not sure what else to say here, other than I'm sorry. But I couldn't do this, and I didn't want to hurt you more if I kept this up." He looks away, chewing on his bottom lip.

 

"I just have to ask... is there anyway we can work through this and past it?"

 

That's when the tears finally come, and she looks down at her lap, shaking her head. She doesn't see him nod his head and stand up, coming over to her, but she feels his hand on her shoulder.

 

They talk for nearly another hour, Ben gives her a hug, and then he's gone. She sits quietly for a while, thinking about Ben, then thinking about Ann. She needs to see Ann. She can, she can do this now. She remembers briefly the shop closes sooner on Sunday's and swears under her breath before reaching for her phone. She hovers over Ann's name, deciding she probably can't ask her if she's still there before then telling her when she shows up oh, by the way, I have feelings for you. Her eyes fall down to Andy's name just below and taps it, sending a quick text.

 

**Are you still open, or there at all?**

 

His response comes surprisingly quickly.

 

**I just left. Ann's staying late, stuff she wants to get done.**

 

And then another text follows.

 

**Goodluck.**

 

Leslie doesn't know how he must know, probably April, but Leslie gathers herself and slips her shoes on and somehow manages to grab her purse in her rush out of the door, heart racing not only from her fast movement.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another nearly month long absence, I'm sorry. It's finals week though, so yeah. Editing and re-editing this was a much needed distraction though. It wasn't fun granted, and a bit hard, but it needed to be done. Better things are coming though, so don't worry.

//\\\

 

Ann is about to step out from behind the register to flip the window sign to “CLOSED” having wrapped up the few things she wanted to get done, deciding for once to not leave something waiting for another day, when she hears the bell ring. She looks up, and she’s there.

 

“Hi,” she says before she can react. She seems nervous. “Sorry about last…” Her voice trails off. “…yeah.”

 

“I'm about to close,” Ann says stiffly.

 

“I know. I know,” she repeats, walking quickly up to the counter. “I’m just—” She’s fiddling with her hands. “I was—look, I just—”

 

“We’re out of... whatever you want.” They’re not. It's a stupid attempt to avoid any of this. But she’s just not willing to give her anything at all today.

 

Leslie reaches across the counter as she’s turning her back to her and puts a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Ann.”

 

She meets her eyes reluctantly.

 

“I don’t want albums, or books, or whatever today” she says, looking at her with that intense, studied stare that she’s come to hate. “I want... God, I don't know how to do this."

 

“Then don't do it at all, whatever you're trying to do. Just don't.”

 

Leslie takes an audible deep breath, and for a second Ann thinks she actually looks _afraid._ Before she can say anything, she steps around the counter so that it’s no longer between them, looks her dead in the eyes, and gets down on one knee, in a way she's seen before.

 

“Go out with me?” she asks.

 

//\\\

 

The seconds stretch on into a minute. Ann is staring at her, motionless, and she wonders if she can hear her heart beating, it must be that loud. _Just reach out, take my hand, and say yes, I promise it's easy_. She doesn't, remains still and she starts to wonder if she's breathing at all.

 

After the silence has become too excruciating, she clears her throat. She's wobbly on one knee. “Go out with me,” she repeats, hoping her voice won’t break. “Please.”

 

Ann says nothing.

 

“Come on, Ann, let’s just…” Did she have a speech planned out? She can’t remember. She rushed here, she didn't plan anything in the time she sat quietly by herself after Ben left, only thought about how she needed to see Ann as soon as possible. “This is ridiculous, let’s just end this. I’m sick of this, this whole… let’s just stop dancing around it.”

 

“Dancing around what?” says Ann in a very small voice.

 

“Around us!” She gestures at… them. “I know we both—I know you feel the same way, you know how I feel, there’s no reason why—”

 

“You have a boyfriend.”

 

She swallows. “I broke up with him.”

 

Ann closes her eyes briefly, and then she sighs, and steps away from her to lean over on the counter and put her face in her hands. “Get up, Leslie,” she says wearily.

 

Leslie stands up. She feels suddenly sick.

 

“Do you not…” _Shit._ “I’m not wrong, I know I’m not—you do, don’t you?” _Shit, shit, shit._

 

Ann stands there with her hands over her face for a long moment, and then she turns to her. Her face looks worn. She looks exhausted.

 

“You’re telling me,” she says quietly, “that this whole time, you knew how I felt about you, and you knew that you felt the same way about me?”

 

“I, yeah—”

 

“And you had a boyfriend, and you still came in here every week, and flirted with me, and came onto me, and—” There’s a red flush in Ann’s cheeks now, one that scares her. “You went after me while you were with someone else.”

 

Leslie swallows. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t going to _do_ anything, Ann, it’s not like I planned this and I definitely didn't plan on acting on it, it wasn't like I was actually—”

 

“Cheating.” She takes a shaky breath. “Not like you were cheating.”

 

“Not…”

 

“Not what?”

 

“…physically,” she finishes, and as soon as she says it she wants to turn around and walk out the door, because she’s not sure she’s ever heard herself say something so pathetic. She's instantly disgusted with herself, because how did she let this happen? How could she let this happen? This isn't her, this isn't something she ever wanted to be.

 

Ann looks like she feels the same way. “No, you weren’t. You were just leading me on, that’s all.”

 

Leslie steps closer to her, wishing her stomach would stop turning so that she could focus on finding words. “I didn’t—last night, Ann, that was when I knew, for sure, that I didn’t want him—I _don’t_ want him, he isn’t—”

 

She reaches out to take her hands, but she snatches them away.

 

“I’ve been with someone before,” she says, “who did that, someone who led me on and wasn’t faithful to me, who led me on for a long time, and left me for the girl he was sleeping with behind my back, so don’t even—”

 

“I’m not doing anything like _that_ behind anyone’s back, and I ended things with him—”

 

“That doesn't change the fact that you still developed feelings for someone else, while still dating another person and didn't end that relationship sooner!” There are _tears_ in her eyes, _fuck_ —“And you knew, you _knew_ ,and you still didn't...”

 

“I’m not like him!” she blurts out. “What he did to you, I would never—”

 

“You were with Ben for a year. More than a year. And you dragged him along while you let yourself fall—you dragged _both_ of us along.” Ann’s properly crying now, but her voice is steady. “And you want me to trust that in another year, you won’t just… randomly decide to fall in love with the—the girl working at the Barnes & Noble downtown, the guy who makes your coffee in the morning, and leave me for either one? I don't trust that easily, I thought we understood each other. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Leslie says is all she offers, helplessly.

 

Ann doesn’t reply, and so they stand there, until finally she sniffs and wipes her face off with the sleeve of her sweater. “Was there anything else you wanted?” she says flatly.

 

She can feel tears of her own threatening. “You’re saying no.”

 

She leans on the counter and doesn’t look at her. “Yeah. I’m saying no.”

 

“I just—” She brushes blindly at her eyes and tries to clear her throat. “This is us, Ann, we’re—I love—”

 

“We’re not anything,” she snaps, glancing up at her. “You’re a customer. You come in, you pay, and you leave. So just… leave.”

 

She stares at her.

 

“Please, just go.” She nods toward the door.

 

“I love you,” she repeats, her vision blurring.

 

Ann ignores her.

 

After a few seconds she brushes the tears off of her cheeks, shoves her hands in her pockets and walks out of the shop as fast as she can. She hears Ann toss whatever books that had been resting on the counter across the room before the door closes behind her.

 

//\\\

 

She doesn't see her again for weeks.

 

She can't really blame her, she thinks heavily. The things she said to her …had to say to her, because she knows it was the right thing to do, she knows she shouldn't be with someone she can't trust, again—but she saw on her face how much it hurt to hear those things. Whatever her faults, she was telling the truth when she said he loved her.

 

It almost makes her run after her and apologize, but she bites her lip and stands her ground. Running after her won't help.

 

Instead, she finishes closing up, locks the door, and goes home.

 

And doesn't see her again for weeks.

 

It will get better, she tells herself as she restocks the shelves or labels books and CDs, but everything is a reminder of her. That's the window display that she knocked over when she was making fun of her walk—these are the register keys that she used to poke while she was in the middle of phone calls just to drive her mad. If she goes into the back room, it's worse. They threw chocolate at each other in that corner. Over there is the wall where she stuck up a drawing of an angry face above the beanbag chair that she'd named Andy's Silly Goober Seat.

 

Ann ends up ripping the drawing down one morning.

 

Even Andy isn't any help. After the wedding, the gift Andy's parents gave the two of them, was the keys to their own home, so it was decided, obviously, Andy would be moving out of Ann's place, and April would be moving out of Leslie's. Andy said it was going to be fun, she'd have her own space. But now Ann wonders whether this isn't the worst part of it all, living alone now, and having these people that she has to share with Leslie, a link between them that she can't get rid of, but never sees her, not anymore. April and Andy still see Leslie, though. Every time Andy shows up for work she wonders if he's just come from his new house, Leslie maybe having breakfast or lunch with them. If he's come from visiting her, or if the three of them went out.

 

They don't talk about Leslie. Andy is almost excruciatingly casual. He doesn't acknowledge what's happened, and Ann wonders at first whether he even knows—she certainly hasn't told him about that day—not living together now made that easier. She wonders if Leslie's told either April or Andy. She feels like Andy knows anyway, after years of knowing each other she wouldn't put it past him to just know at this point.

 

Is she okay? Ann wants to ask. How's she doing? What has she been like?

 

She doesn't dare, though. So Andy keeps pretending everything is fine.

 

He's doing it for her own good, Ann knows, but every now and then she finds herself wishing he would snap and just yell at her, berate her for it, convince her what a terrible mistake she made and force her to apologize. Take her back, you moron, she wants him to shout. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

 

In these moments, she forces up an old image: Mark kneeling in front of her, (No ring—no, that would have been premeditated.) The irony almost makes her laugh. Leslie probably thought she was being romantic—if she'd asked, she would have said something about wanting to turn a bad memory on its head or some other bullshit writer's line. Or maybe just trying to be cute.

 

Maybe she hadn't been thinking at all, she wonders. Maybe she's fine.

 

//\\\

 

It's been four weeks since the wedding, four weeks since _that night_ , when there's a knock on her front door.

 

"Hey," she says softly when she opens it.

 

Neither one of them moves. Ann doesn't have anything to say. She just stares at her, and swallows. Twice.

 

Leslie runs a hand through her hair. "Uh."

 

"Hi."

 

"I'm here to apologize." She clears her throat. "I brought…"

 

Ann glances down—she's holding out a book to her. She takes it numbly. It's Pride & Prejudice. A lump rises in her throat.

 

"Peace offering," Leslie says. "Can I come in?"

 

She backs away from the door without replying, and she takes that as a yes. She heads into the living room. Ann doesn't know what to do for a moment, but she sets the book down on a table and wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans. Then she turns to face her. She's standing aimlessly in front of her sofa.

 

"You can sit down," she offers awkwardly.

 

Leslie seems to recognize the sofa for the first time, and sits.

 

Ann joins her.

 

"…so," she says after a long minute of staring at the carpet. "Did…did you have a speech planned this time, or…"

 

Leslie is silent. She can't even hear her breathing.

 

"Look," she says finally. She's leaning forward, hands folded in front of her, not looking at her. Her voice isn't much above a whisper. "You were right. Everything you said. I was unfair, to both of you. I hurt you."

 

Fuck, don't cry. Don't even… Ann takes a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Don't fucking tear up in front of her. Not now.

 

Leslie clears her throat again. "None of it—I didn't do it out of…" She swallows. "It wasn't on purpose. I didn't think. But I'm sorry. I just wanted to say that."

 

She studies her face. Her gaze is fixed somewhere on the coffee table in front of them, and there's a brightness in her eyes—she wonders if she's trying not to tear up as well. She can see the tenseness in her expression, her jaw clenched.

 

"Why did you do it?" she asks, finding her voice, and she isn't even sure what it means.

 

Leslie lets out her breath shakily. "Because I don't…"

 

She pauses, and then turns her head and looks at her, though not straight in the eye.

 

"I didn't know what I wanted, I thought I did. I always imagined myself with the perfect job, perfect husband one day, but..." she murmurs. "I never expected this, it threw me off, made me into someone I didn't like that much. And that's not because of you, if anything you're the thing that helped me realize... what I really wanted, what I really needed to fit into the whacky puzzle that is my life." She turns away again, back to the fucking coffee table. Ann thinks she'll buy a new one.

 

"I wanted you the first time I met you," she continues after a moment, her voice rough, "but I didn't…know it. Or, I didn't know how to decide. You're the most pleasantly frustrating answer to questions I didn't know I needed answering."

 

Ann bites back a laugh even though her eyes are stinging. "Yeah, I guess we're a match in that regard."

 

"He wasn't the answer," she says, continuing on autopilot. "You're better for me."

 

Ann has no reply.

 

"I really did break up with him, before I came to see you." When she meets her eyes, she feels a pressure in her chest. "I apologized to him. He was oddly calmer than I was, and he seemed to understand, I think..." Suddenly her hand is on hers. "And I'm apologizing to you, now, for messing everything up."

 

Something breaks inside her. Ann swallows. "Leslie, I—"

 

"No—I'm not—" She glances down, and then pulls her hand away. "I'm not asking you for anything. Just—if we could be friends."

 

She stares at her hands. "I don't…" She has to close her eyes. "I'm not sure yet if I truly trust you enough right now."

 

There's a pause. "Yeah," she hears her say quietly.

 

"Like…" She struggles for words, twisting her fingers together. "Like how do I—I haven't even gotten close to someone in a year because of him, and now it's like it's just… I was done with this, you know?"

 

"I don't want to be him, Ann," she says softly.

 

Ann doesn't say anything.

 

"Can I not be him?" Her voice is thick with emotion. "Please?" She swallows again. "I'm sorry, I want to fix this."

 

"You're not…" Fuck. "I didn't—you're not, okay. I know you're not."

 

Leslie is quiet for a minute, and when she speaks next, her voice is low. "If you want to not see me again, I'll stop coming by. If that's what you want."

 

"That's not what I want," she says in a small voice.

 

She shifts beside her. "Then tell me, okay, and we'll, like…"

 

"I want boundaries." She swallows. "I think—boundaries. Okay. We need to like—like don't, like—" _Words_. _Use them_. _Say a sentence_. "You coming over and staying for like the whole day, and when we're outside of the shop, not getting drunk with me, it's just not—"

 

"Yeah." She sits up straighter. "Yeah, no, definitely. Okay."

 

"And maybe like… if we're hanging out, it shouldn't just—like Andy and April should be there, it shouldn't just like be us—"

 

"I feel so bad for them."

 

Ann laughs suddenly, unexpectedly. "Yeah. God. Are they, like—"

 

"I think they think they're putting on a good front, but probably slowly losing their minds in their new married lives. At least, that's what I get when I'm around them. I don't know what you might be getting."

 

Suddenly she's smiling, and Leslie's smiling too—her whole frame has relaxed, like she's just let out a breath that she's been holding for hours. Ann brushes at her eyes with her sleeve, feeling ridiculous.

 

"So I can come over, then." Leslie is looking at her for real now. "And hang out. Sometimes."

 

"Yeah. Just—"

 

"—boundaries, yeah."

 

"I don't want to just like not ever see you again," she mumbles.

 

"Thank you," Leslie murmurs.

 

Ann feels warm. After a minute or so of silence, Leslie  gets up and heads toward the door.

 

"I'll see you around then," she says as Ann follows her. She feels like she can breathe again. When Leslie reaches for her and puts her arms around her neck, she hugs her back, tight and wordless. She can feel her bare skin against her cheek as she presses her face into the crook of her neck and she doesn't let go, just holds her, memorizing her smell and her softness and the warmth of her body. She doesn't let go, until she does.

 

"Are we okay?"

 

She gives her shoulders a squeeze. "We're okay."

 

It isn't until she's walked out the door—it's some time after that, really, she doesn't know how many minutes she spends standing there, picking at her nails and taking deep breaths—that she starts crying, the tears coming easily and gently. Something deep inside her has just been released. Her hands are shaking, and she needs to sit down, but she feels… it's good. She feels good. She held her so close. They're okay.

 

God, she didn't know how much she missed her until now.

 

She sits down at the kitchen table and picks up Pride & Prejudice. On the first page, just inside the cover, is Leslie's handwriting.

 

**Sorry for everything. This is my copy, worn and well loved. I promise that's not a metaphor for myself.**  
**I hope you enjoy and I look forward to talking to you about it.**

**Love you, Perkins. – Leslie x**

 

She runs her fingertips over the words, and stays there for a long time.


End file.
